


Leverage

by SweetAndSourBerry



Series: Leverage DSMP AU [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But Phil is still everyone’s dad, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dream is super toxic you guys, Manipulation, Multi, Pandora’s Vault, Power Imbalance, Rape/Non-con Elements, Switches between Dream and Techno’s POV, Weaponized Sex, Wilbur is Phil’s only kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetAndSourBerry/pseuds/SweetAndSourBerry
Summary: Through a combination of manipulation and combat prowess, Dream is the most powerful individual on the SMP by far, and he wants to keep it that way. All that changes when a certain piglin hybrid settles into the area. It occurs to Dream, however, that the Blood God in chains would make a pretty sweet trophy ...
Series: Leverage DSMP AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2159235
Comments: 262
Kudos: 432





	1. Technoblade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after Tommy leaves Techno’s cabin in the north, but takes place in a world where there was no Doomsday. Everything else is canon complaint.
> 
> Each chapter will be titled by which character’s POV it’s told through.
> 
> Please note that this fic is an alternative universe story based off the _characters_ on the Dream SMP, _not_ the content creators themselves. None of the behaviors in this fic are indicative of any personality traits or desires of the real-life people. All these people are good friends in real life and would _never_ even _think_ of doing some of the stuff I’ll portray them as doing, especially Dream.
> 
> Also note that this fic won’t be cute and cuddly. Dream is one sick bastard. Heed the tags.

The snow shrieked its way into the cabin as Technoblade opened the door, swirling around in miniature tornadoes before settling peacefully onto the stone floor. The piglin hybrid closed the doors on the blizzard raging outside. He took a moment to just breathe, brushing the snow off his cloak and hair and stomping his boots, before moving to the wall of chests and placing the bones from the stray he had just killed into one of them.

The creak from the chest echoed off the cabin walls in a way that was startling after hours of listening to the blizzard whistling around him. In contrast, the cabin was eerily quiet. Maybe too quiet.

“Phil?” he called out, climbing the ladder leading to the main level. “I got more firewood, and ... oh.”

Em snored from her place on the carpet in front of the fireplace; the tamed wolf was the only living thing in the cabin besides Techno himself.

“Alright,” he drawled, and started to stack the firewood he had gathered. Em cracked a single eye open to watch him, and gave a single wag of her tail, before falling back asleep. He finished with the firewood and took a moment to warm his hands by the fire, looking around the cabin, when he saw the teapot. 

Phil and his teas. Techno personally thought that most of them tasted like lawn clippings, but the older man loved them. He was constantly trying new blends, experimenting with ingredients, and guilt-tripping Technoblade into tasting his concoctions.

Techno had voiced his opinions on the similarities in taste between Phil’s teas and spruce leaves only once. The look of badly-hidden _devastation_ on Phil’s face had been enough to ensure that there’d never been a second time. Techno would meekly accept his cup and dump as much sugar into it as possible when Phil wasn’t looking. Phil, meanwhile, had made it his goal to find a blend that Techno could tolerate.

This particular teapot, on this particular afternoon, was still steaming. There was a note in front of it, scribbled on a piece of paper:

_Went to village to trade. Be back tomorrow. Enjoy some liquid warmth, mate. I know you love tea._

The note was unusually terse and the handwriting was off, but it looked enough like Phil’s. Perhaps the man had been in a hurry. Techno lifted the teapot’s top and a wave of steam that was downright _verdant_ assaulted his nostrils. He closed the lid back, coughing. “I’m a piglin, Phil; we’re carnivores,” he muttered to himself. Which wasn’t true, strictly speaking. His people were happy to eat the occasional spores and fungi with their hoglin. But there wasn’t anything _green_ in the fucking _Nether_!

Still, though. Techno sighed and reached for a cup. There was a creak from upstairs; he stopped, instantly alert, but the sound didn’t repeat. Must be the house settling in the storm. He sat at the table and poured himself a cup of tea, shoveling in almost equal parts sugar, and braced himself before shooting it like liquor.

It was just as herbal, almost _medicinal,_ as he expected it was going to be. But it was pleasantly warm. And if his piglin physiology didn’t like consuming green plants, it didn’t like being cold even more. He poured himself a second cup and gave it the same treatment as the first.

Maybe if he hadn’t put in so much sugar, or maybe if he had sipped it instead, he would have realized that something was off sooner. Maybe if he had taken a second look at that note, with its wording and handwriting that was just a little off. Maybe if he had investigated that sound upstairs.

As it was, he was on his third cup when his brain registered the taste properly. He threw the cup to the ground, spitting out what was in his mouth, and leapt to his hooves. Or tried to, at least. The contents of the teapot sent him crashing back down into the chair.

Sleeping potions were fickle things. The more awake and alert a person was, the less they worked. A splash potion of sleeping was useless on a battlefield; in fact, a splash potion of sleeping was useless in almost any context, as the simple act of throwing the bottle at a victim usually made said victim anything but sleepy.

But blended into a pot of calming herbal tea ...

Techno called his sword to himself, only to feel it slip out of his limp fingers and fall to the floor with a crash. He could feel his body relaxing, could feel his muscles loosening. “Whu’?” he slurred, trying to rise again. This time he couldn’t even get his hooves solidly on the floor.

From far away, he could hear boots on the ladder leading to the bedroom loft. Two figures swarmed into his rapidly-darkening view.

“I’mma ‘ill you,” he spat at the closest figure, but the words slurred together into a harmless mush instead of the intended threat.

Hands grabbed him, lifted him up. As if from far away, he felt his body settle onto a shoulder. He tried to roar in fury, but it came out a whimper.

The last thing he saw before the darkness took him entirely was a smiley face hover grotesquely into view.

* * *

He awoke, sometime later. No comforting wood smoke and spruce sap scent filled his nostrils. Instead, his surrounds smelled musty and stuffy and ... like the Nether? The distinct sound of lava popping reached his ears.

He cracked open an eye to find himself in a _bastion_ of all things, laying on a blackstone platform. Except ... no, there was a cauldron of water over there. He was still in the Overworld. What ...?

It was too much, too confusing. He decided to parse out the riddle of his surroundings later, as the blackness took him.

* * *

The blackstone platform was still there when he awoke next, but he could now see that the walls of the fake-bastion weren’t blackstone but obsidian. “ _What is this?_ ” he grunted in the piglin tongue. No one answered him.

The falling curtain of lava to one side was oddly mesmerizing. He didn’t resist sleep as he was pulled under again.

* * *

His body was still on the blackstone platform but his head was resting on something soft and warm. Something scratched gently at his scalp and ran through his hair. _Fingers_ , he realized. His head was on a _lap_ and _fingers_ were being run through his hair.

He grunted and moved to stand, to see who had him in such a vulnerable position, but the fingers turned from gentle to restraining. A voice he thought probably familiar chuckled above him.

”Go back to sleep, Technoblade,” the voice muttered. He grunted again in protest, trying again to rise, but the potion still had him in its grip. The fingers resumed their stroking, and he felt his body relaxing despite himself.

The last thing he heard, as sleep again claimed him, was that familiar voice chuckling.

* * *

It felt like no time at all had passed when he awoke next. The fingers were gone, and his head was again resting on blackstone. He opened his eyes to see a figure walking away, moving across a wide chasm. As lava started to fall again from the ceiling, the figure turned to look back at Techno lying on his blackstone bench.

The figure didn’t have a face. Instead, a grotesque smiley face locked eyes with him.

Then the lava covered the chasm again, and Techno was left wondering if he had imagined the whole thing.

He went back to sleep.


	2. Dream

Dream had always enjoyed his toys.

People weren’t that complicated, when you got down to it. It was always about finding what drove them, what made them tick. Once you had leverage over a person, they were yours forever.

That was one reason, he supposed, why he loved Tommy so much. The boy was laughably helpless on his own, but had an odd charisma that drew people to him and compelled them to protect him. It was a challenge, keeping a step ahead of the boy while not becoming complacent with how easy it was to press his buttons.

He didn’t fuck him, of course. Dream didn’t fuck kids; he wasn’t a _monster_. And the boisterous way Tommy talked, and the honking noise he made when amused or confused or for any other reason it seemed, put him squarely into the “child” category to Dream’s way of thinking.

(That didn’t mean he couldn’t fuck _with_ him, however. Tommy was oh-so-easy to fuck with. Dream got Tommy’s discs and it was over.)

It was also why he hated Schlatt so much. He appreciated what the ram hybrid was trying to do, but he had no _finesse_. Manipulation took subtlety and careful consideration of your target. Schlatt simply brute-forced his way into control. Like a kid banging on piano keys. The results hurt Dream’s sensibilities.

Plus, the man smelled like a dive bar.

He still fucked him. Sex wasn’t about _attraction_ , it was about power and domination. If a person knew what it felt like to have your weight on their back and your breath on the nape of their neck, the battle was half won.

It was simple in the end. Schlatt was new to the area and needed resources. Dream would give him those resources in exchange for bending him over his desk. Schlatt agreed suspiciously fast, a fact that left Dream slightly uneasy. That unease continued when Schlatt seemed to be _enjoying_ their time together. Dream ordered him to strip and he did so readily enough, with no hesitation or shame, and didn’t even seem to mind when Dream pocketed his briefs for his collection. Dream all but threw him onto the desk, then tied his hands with his own tie, and Schlatt actually _moaned_. The ram then seemed to taunt him for not being rough enough, and ... oh. That’s what this was. The dumb goat was trying to play a player.

Dream wasn’t stupid. He did what he had come here to do and waited for an opportunity.

It came when he casually reached over to brush the hair out of Schlatt’s face and felt the man tense when he touched a horn. Not a lot. Most people would have dismissed it as a simple reaction to the intimacy of the situation, if they had noticed it at all.

Dream was not most people.

Casually, oh so casually, he reached a hand up and _grabbed_ a horn, using it as a handle to bear down better on the man below him.

Schlatt wasn’t taunting him any more.

Dream smiled afterwards and generously thanked the ram for a good time, even suggesting they do it again sometimes. Schlatt agreed quickly, made a lewd suggestion of his own, but Dream could see the hesitation in his eyes.

Leverage.

Dream gave Schlatt double the resources that he had promised, and smirked to himself as he watched the ram wonder if Dream would expect to be repaid for the excess. Dream waited, let the ram settle back down, get comfortable again in the conversation, then casually reached up and stroked a horn the way a lover would.

Whenever they would happen to meet after that, Schlatt would still speak to Dream with his trademark boisterous sneer, but it lacked the fire it had before. His eyes would tense, just a little, at the corners, like Dream was a wild animal he was trying to hide his fear from.

Dream would smile, and call him “Mr. President”, and watch Schlatt watch his hands.

* * *

Dream believed in giving credit where credit was due. The man was shit at manipulating others, but every so often he’d stumble his way into something beautiful.

The look on Wilbur and Tommy’s faces when they were exiled was priceless.

Dream supposed even a kid banging on a piano could manage a decent melody every so often.

* * *

It came to his attention not too long after the election that _Pogtopia_ (the stupid name Wilbur and Tommy gave their ramshackle rebel base) had called for reinforcements in the form of Wilbur’s dad’s old war buddy. The man arrived in the middle of the night and was escorted to their ravine before Dream even knew he was in the area.

He was called Technoblade, and he was supposed to be an amazing fighter. Dream would reserve judgement on _that_ until he could see the piglin fight for himself, but his reputation was strong enough that Dream moved to gain leverage right away.

 _I have something for you,_ Dream messaged him.

 _Is it clout?_ was the immediate reply.

Dream blinked. What the hell?

 _Not directly,_ he hedged. Maybe that would be enough to whet the piglin’s ...

 _Scam,_ the man replied.

Dream couldn’t decide if the man was very smart or very, very stupid.

 _Meet me at the community house in secret,_ he told him.

_I don’t know where that is._

Dream felt the irritation rising in his chest, and stomped it down. _In the middle of the lake._

_Which lake?_

“Oh, come on!” Dream shouted, startling a herd of wild sheep grazing nearby.

Then he imagined the dumb piglin hybrid, wandering around the center of his SMP, maybe even asking people for directions, and had a change of heart.

 _-100 -250,_ he messaged him back. There was a nice, dramatic mountain there Dream sometimes used to ...

_ty fam_

Dream called his axe out of his inventory to throw it on the ground.

* * *

His first sight of Technoblade didn’t endear him to the man. He had the burly physique of a piglin brute but carried himself with casual indifference, like the thought that this could be a trap was too ridiculous to contemplate. His features were mostly human, although he had a piglin’s droopy eyes, sharp tusks, and floppy ears. He wouldn’t be winning any beauty contests any time soon, but there was a certain rugged charm to his looks. The broad scar across his nose didn’t hurt that charm.

He wore the cloak and crown of royalty. A pig in pearls. The getup was so ludicrous that Dream wasn’t even offended. To his critical eye a piglin wearing such finery looked more like a joke or a costume than a legitimate threat. Even if the cloak _was_ lined with what looked like real silk, and was that arctic fox fur around the hood and sleeves?

Dream had perched himself on a stone ledge to be higher than the other man. The benevolent master of the realm bestowing favor upon his subjects. But the first thing Technoblade did was to tower, _with netherrack_ , to be a block _taller_ than Dream. Dream gritted his teeth and offered his support for Pogtopia’s cause.

”Okay,” was the indifferent response.

He then did what he had come here to do, and _that_ got a response, at least. He gave Technoblade an enchanted golden apple, two netherite ingots, a half-stack of gapples, 12 diamonds, and a stack of ended pearls. He was careful to keep the sneer from his face as he watched the piglin snort happily to himself while collecting the items, and half expected him to throw some leather or soul sand towards Dream in payment.

”Pleasure doing business with you,” he got instead. And the piglin wandered off before Dream could mention repayment.

* * *

He brought it up later. “I was very generous up on that mountain,” he reminded the man while they were alone. “Perhaps you could repay the favor.” He kept his tone soft and flirty.

That probably wouldn’t be enough for the dumb piglin. He reached up to cup the man’s face.

Or tried to, at least. Techno jerked out of reach and then jerked back to where he had been so fast that Dream barely saw it.

Dream’s nostrils flared beneath his mask. Leverage.

“What did you have in mind?” he drawled lazily, as if he hadn’t just exposed a weakness to Dream’s sharp gaze.

“Well, a man has needs...” Dream hinted gently, almost coyly.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. Dream wondered for a split second if he had managed to get through that thick skull before he continued: “food, shelter, clothing ... I have some steak, if you want some?”

Fine. If he wanted to dance, Dream would simply change the music. “Technoblade, I’m going to fuck you,” he announced simply.

The piglin blinked. “Naaaaaah,” he replied simply.

“Oh?” Dream smirked, reaching up to cup the piglin’s face. This time he was ready for him to jerk out of reach, and succeeded in brushing a finger along his cheek. “How’s that?”

Was that a flinch? “You’re not my type,” he said simply. As if that mattered.

Ah. He was playing coy. “‘Rich’ is everyone’s type,” Dream smirked. “That present was a small preview of what I can offer.”

Techno blinked. “No offense, but I prefer my bed partners more porcine. And female.”

Where had such a dumb farm animal learned a word like ‘porcine’? “Do preferences matter when god apples are to be had?” Dream asked, displaying such an apple enticingly before the piglin.

Said piglin shrugged it off. “To be honest, man,” he said, “this conversation is getting kinda cringe.” And started to walk away.

Dream frowned at his back. “Technoblade...” he began.

”Don’t be such a try-hard, Dream,” he said. And laughed.

It had been a very long time since anyone had laughed at Dream. By the time he had come up with a reply, Techno was long gone.


	3. Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get a bit rapey this chapter. Nothing happens, but there’s a bit of talk and thought of using rape as punishment. Stay safe my lovelies! <3

Normally, after such a rejection, Dream would have forced the issue. He was the most powerful individual on this server; there was absolutely no way he could allow such disrespect to stand. He always got his way in the end, and any who opposed him would very quickly learn that they stood in a dangerous and _painful_ place. That lesson could be easy or hard; Dream wasn’t vindictive. He didn’t hold grudges. If his opposition had a change of heart and fell back into their place, he’d happily let them be with a slap on the wrist.

There was absolutely no way that Technoblade was going to get back into his lane so easily. His punishment would need to be memorable.

So ... he’d simply have to _force_ the issue.

It wouldn’t be the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. In this situation, Dream would simply pay a visit to his enemy, force them to comply to his will, and leave them with an appreciation of just how unwise standing against him would be in the future. He’d even make sure they enjoyed themselves as much as possible; Dream was a vain man and preferred his partners took pleasure from his attentions, whether they wanted to or not.

He knew where Techno’s hidden base was and knew how to get in and out unseen. It was just a matter of catching him alone.

But then a certain blond Brit boy got in the way, and Dream’s plans spiraled out of control.

Tommy had angered Sapnap. It should have stayed there, but Sapnap gathered his allies around him and Tommy gathered his, and as Dream was pretending to care about Pogtopia that included him.

He was less than happy when he realized that his side would be Tommy, “The Blade”, and himself. He wasn’t sure if he could take on the five best fighters on his own. Would Techno be any help? Gods knew that Tommy wouldn’t.

Technoblade showed up in meticulously forged netherite armor, carrying a beautifully crafted netherite axe, riding a horse that Dream could tell at a glance was one of the best he had ever seen, and proceeded to complain that Tommy had just woken him and that he wasn’t ready for a fight. Then unsuccessfully tried to bribe Punz, the mercenary, to just walk away. And _then_ proceeded to make fun of Tommy for starting a battle over a music disc in the first place.

And then ...

Dream knew a good fighter when he saw one, and Technoblade was one of the best. He went from lumbering farm animal to an absolute _machine_ , cutting down his enemies with a speed and grace that took Dream aback.

“MC Monday vibes,” Techno had drawled afterwards, before going on to complain about the durability on his armor.

Wait. Technoblade had fought in the MC Monday tournaments?

Dream went back to his base and did some digging, to find that, not only had Technoblade fought in MC Monday, but he had absolutely _dominated_ the tourney.

 _Technoblade was the Blood God_.

At this point, Dream wasn’t sure he could take Technoblade in a fair fight. He wasn’t even sure he could take the piglin in an _unfair_ fight.

So maybe forcing the issue was off the table, at least for now. Dream would need another plan.

He took a minute to think, took out his axe and flipped it around, before coming up with a possible plan. It wasn’t perfect and it might not even be necessary, but it had a certain appeal.

_Sam, I need to meet with you to talk about a project._

* * *

So Dream went back to watching. He watched as Technoblade executed Tubbo, accidentally assassinating Schlatt and Quackity in the process. He watched as Pogtopia won their battle with Schlatt (after securing one of the greatest pieces of leverage he had ever possessed from the ram), and turned on Techno. He watched as Techno renounced violence and went to live as a hermit in the north.

Then Tommy griefed George’s house, and Dream realized that he may have let his attention slip in other areas. That there were other people here that needed to be reminded of their place.

He easily convinced the child ruler of L’Manburg to exile Tommy. All alone on his little beach, no one but the pathetic remains of Wilbur Soot to keep him company, Dream got to work.

It was pathetically easy, breaking and rebuilding TommyInnit. Easy, and fun. Tommy had been a thorn in his side for so long, watching him reduced to a hesitant mess of a human being desperate for Dream’s approval was a pleasure.

But then Dream got carried away and Tommy ran.

To Technoblade.

* * *

_Hey, I’m on the way to your house, need to have a chat with you._

Dream watched from just in the tree line as Tommy and Techno flailed around, desperate to hide Tommy, and felt his blood boil. He had saved Techno’s life, given up a precious woodland mansion map. The piglin owed him. The piglin owed him _big_.

“I’ve actually never been here,” he lied, keeping his voice light and friendly, letting Techno escort him inside.

“Make yourself at home,” Techno responded.

Dream took him up on that offer. He charged down the ladder, looked at the wall of chests, looked at the zombified villagers Techno was in the process of curing, looked at the cow, tried to find any hint of Tommy in the cabin. But Techno had hidden him well.

“Well, there’s a bit of a problem,” Dream said, allowing just a hint of steel creep into his voice. “Tommy left.”

The dumb piglin looked at him. “Who?” he asked, and Dream had never been happier for the mask covering his face because there was no way he could hide how _livid_ that made him. “Oh, right, Tommy, yeah, that guy. He got exiled? That was pretty funny.”

“Yeah, but now he’s missing,” Dream replied. “L’Manburg thinks he’s dead. I know otherwise.”

“Alright,” the piglin drawled. “Sounds go-”

“Have you seen him?” Dream bit the words out a bit harsher than he meant to, but he had just spotted the way the air shimmered in the corner and knew exactly what that meant.

“I have not seen him,” Technoblade lied smoothly.

He saved this man’s life. He _saved his life._ And the _dumb animal_ had the _audacity_ to _lie to his face_ like this? “You sure?” he asked again.

“I’m pretty confident,” was the immediate reply.

He needed to get out of here before he did something stupid himself. “Mind if I look around?” he asked as calmly as he could, not waiting for an answer before barreling back down the ladder.

“You can look around, you can look around,” the piglin replied. And then started giving him a tour, complete with the art he had hanging on the walls.

The sound of eating could be heard from upstairs.

Dream fixated on it, immediately climbing back up the ladder. “Wanna see my bell up here?” Techno redirected him to the ladder again, this time guiding him up to his bedroom.

There was no question in his mind that Tommy was down in the main room, having used an invisibility potion on himself. But it was becoming clear that Techno would not be swayed from protecting him. And there was no way that Dream could take them both inside Techno’s own home. They had every advantage here.

So Dream allowed himself to be directed up the ladder, even rang the bell at Techno’s request. Then moved to leave. He had one more play up his sleeve.

“Glad to see you alive and well. I didn’t see Carl out there, but I’m assuming Carl is safe?”

“Oh, Carl’s safe, Carl’s safe,” Techno immediately assured him. As if Dream was worried about the stupid horse.

“Good.” He turned back to the piglin. “I would say that you owe me.”

“That’s true,” the piglin responded. “You don’t have to worry, Dream; I am a person that believes in absolute reciprocity.”

In his corner, Tommy coughed.

Dream watched Techno’s ear twitch in that direction. Watched his eyes tighten, just a little.

“Okay, okay,” Dream replied. “Well, if you catch wind of Tommy, let me know. Because I’ve been out looking for him for the last-”

“Alright,” the piglin interrupted. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

He should teach this dumb fucker a lesson right now. Should pull out his axe and beat him half to death. For a minute, Dream imagined it. Imagined taking him by surprise, cutting through his armor’s straps, grabbing the axe from his hand and throwing it away. Imagined breaking that nose with his fist and watching the blood pour over his tusks and down his chin. Imagined throwing him over the enderchest in the corner and ...

He wouldn’t even get his own axe out. Technoblade would be all over him if he even tried. And who knew what goodies the piglin had stashed away within easy reach?

Sam would be ready soon. Until then, he just had to have patience.

“Alright. Well,” he forced himself to say. “Nice to see you.”

“See you later,” Technoblade replied. But Dream was already gone.


	4. Technoblade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally was going to bring the fic up to the “present” in chapter one in this chapter, but this stream was way too much fun to just gloss over. Besides, I wanted a chapter of Dream trying to manipulate Techno from Techno’s perspective, as well. Enjoy one more chapter of fun before the pain. <3

Techno should have kicked Tommy out a long time ago. He knew that, as he watched Dream go through his stuff the first time. He knew that, as Tommy insisted on building one of his signature cobblestone towers in his front yard. He knew that, as Dream indicated his desire to meet up at Techno’s cabin again.

“How are you doing on this lovely afternoon?” Techno asked pleasantly, voice less steady than he would have liked, as the man stood in his front yard.

Dream ignored the greeting entirely. “I actually came here the other day, but you weren’t home, so I visited with Ghostbur,” he said instead, pushing past Techno to walk into the main room of the cabin and poke through chests.

This again.

“I’m gonna be honest, I’m going to need you to stop trespassing on my property without permission,” Techno said, following him in. “It’s just kinda weird.” And he wasn’t sure Tommy wouldn’t do something stupid if caught alone. Because the kid wasn’t exactly known for his rational choices. “I mean, I know I owe you a favor and all, but that doesn’t mean you can just walk in whenever-”

“That’s fair,” Dream interrupted him to say. And Techno would have hoped that the man was in a mood to be reasonable, if not for the fact that the scent of his rage permeated the small room.

“Think of it like I’m a genie, and you get one wish,” Techno said, and Dream did not like that _at all._

He probably should stop baiting the man at some point. It probably wasn’t good for his long-term health. Dream was a strong fighter, and seemed to have some sort of hold over the people of this server. He was obviously used to getting his way. A man like that made a dangerous enemy.

If only it wasn’t so much _fun._

“Well,” Dream continued, and something in his voice put Techno on edge, “I know that Tommy has been here.”

 _See?_ he thought to himself. _That is why you don’t poke at tigers._

Techno let his eyes go blank. Dream leaned in, just a little, eager to see how he would respond. Techno opened his mouth, licked his lips-

“Hey, Phil, how’s it going?” he said to his communicator.

Off to the side, Dream practically _seethed._

 _Techno?_ Phil asked in his ear.

”No, I don’t,” Techno replied, trusting his friend to catch on. Silence on the other end. “Actually, I have some eggs, but I’m not allowed in L’Manburg. Ya know?”

A beat, and then ... _Well, I guess I can ask around. I was really looking forward to baking that cake._

“He’s baking a cake,” Techno explained to Dream _sotto voce_. A thought crossed his mind, and he shouldn't, he really really shouldn’t, but ... “Actually, Dream is over right now. Maybe he’d be willing to bring you the eggs next time he’s in L’Manburg?”

Dream looked at him like he wanted to rip off his head with his bare hands.

“Maybe not,” Techno told Phil.

 _It’s fine, it’s fine,_ Phil said reassuringly, like he wanted to make sure that Techno knew that he wasn’t too upset about not being able to bake the cake that Techno had just made up on the spot. _I’m sure I can figure something out._

Dream sighed. “If it gets this conversation over, Eret has an egg farm close by his castle,” he bit out.

“Oh, good news, Phil!” Techno said excitedly. “Dream came through! He says there’s an egg farm close by Eret’s castle!”

 _Oh, pog!_ Phil said in his ear. _I’ll get Ranboo to go get one next time he visits. Thanks, mate!_

“Yeah, no problem!” And he wanted to stretch this out farther, just to see how long Dream would let him talk, but the man’s fingers were fidgety like they wanted to wrap around an axe, and Techno decided he had pushed things far enough. “I’ll talk to you later, Phil!”

_Yeah, you too. Take care of yourself up there in the snow!_

“You too!” Techno said, and disconnected the line. “Sorry about that, Dream. What were you saying?”

Dream stared at him, as if daring him to interrupt again, before repeating: “I know Tommy has been here.” He gestures to indicate the cabin and the land around it. “I’m just pointing it out. And as long as I know where Tommy is, _which I do,_ then, well ...” He shrugged. “I might come in here at any point-”

It was worth a try. “Yeah? Where is he?” Techno asked casually. Like he genuinely didn’t know.

Dream might wear a mask, but Techno could feel the heat of his glare through it. “Listen, there’s a _picture_ of _Tommy and Wilbur_ on the wall downstairs!” he bit out.

And that was news to Techno, and inwardly he cursed the dumb kid for being so careless, but outwardly he bit back: “That could be anyone’s picture! Ghostbur was by; maybe he hung it up!”

“There’s a sign downstairs that says ‘to do: build a girlfriend’; is that yours?! Do you really think that you’re fooling me here?!”

”Listen, I don’t appreciate this _judgement,_ Dream! Not all of us can be _chads_ with girls hanging on our every word! Some of us are lonely!”

Dream went charging back outside; Techno followed. “So you built this _cobblestone_ tower? Is that what you’re saying?!”

He knew that damn tower was going to come back and bite him. Damn kid. “That was _naturally_ formed! It’s always been there!”

Dream honestly looked speechless at that. “Listen,” he said finally, “I know you’re hiding Tommy. I know it! I knew it when I visited two days ago! The reason I didn’t say anything then is that I don’t necessarily _care_ as long as I know _where_ Tommy is. _And_ as long as he doesn’t come to L’Manburg. If he comes to L’Manburg, though ... it’s a problem.”

“Alright, sounds good,” Techno drawled.

The eyes on Dream’s mask burned holes in Techno’s face. “I’ll be watching, Technoblade,” he finally said, and walked back towards the tree line.

“Come back any time, Dream!” Techno yelled to his retreating form, but Dream didn’t so much as twitch a finger in acknowledgement.

Techno watched Dream disappear and walked back inside the cabin. He considered a moment, then set some milk in a pot on the fire to warm.

When ten minutes had passed and Dream still hadn’t reappeared, Techno allowed himself to breathe. _Alright, coast is clear,_ he messaged his communicator.

 _Thanks, Big Man!_ an enthusiastic voice answered him. _I was gettin’ bored down here in the mines! Any chance we still have some of those cocoa beans for hot chocolate left?_

Techno smiled at the pot on the fire, the exact right distance away to keep it warm without burning. _Way ahead of you,_ he messaged back. _Say, how do you feel about a trip into L’Manburg?_


	5. Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s the whump I’ve been promising you! Nothing actually happens this chapter (that will be it’s own chapter, so anyone who doesn’t want to read the actual event itself can skip it safely), but there’s a lot of lead up to it and fantasizing about sexual contact with an unwilling partner.
> 
> I’d also like to take a moment to remind everyone that this is an au based on the characters based on the content creators, not the content creators themselves. I am not insinuating that the actual, real-life person that calls himself “Dream” online is a rapist, any more than I’m insinuating that the actual, real-life person that calls himself “Technoblade” online is a piglin. It’s all for fun!

Five hours. It takes _five fucking hours_ from the time Dream leaves Technoblade’s cabin for the motherfucking piglin and the kid to show up in L’Manburg and start shit.

They take a hostage, one of _Dream’s people,_ and try to use him to terrorize the leaders of L’Manburg into giving Techno back the items he lost during his failed execution. The execution that _Dream_ prevented and helped him escape.

Worse, Tubbo sees Tommy and learns that he didn’t die in his exile after all. A piece of knowledge Dream wanted to keep from him for the time being.

It’s at that moment that Dream makes his decision. Personal issues aside, Technoblade is too destructive, too powerful, to be left free.

As soon as it was ready, he was going to lock him in Pandora’s Vault.

* * *

In the meantime, Dream watched.

He watched Philza break his house arrest and join the two troublemakers in the north.

He watched Tommy inevitably betray the piglin to run back to Tubbo.

He watched Ranboo become close with the two that were left, and even go on a couple adventures with Techno, although Techno kept him at arm’s length.

He watched Techno _not_ keep Phil at arm’s length, watches the warmth between the two men, and realized that the piglin had a weakness after all.

* * *

Oddly enough, Phil seemed to have some sort of vulnerability to baby zombies?

It didn’t make sense. But whenever one would appear, the piglin would scream the bird hybrid’s name and jump in front of him to defend him. Phil would laugh; but Phil seemed to laugh at everything. And the piglin seemed dead serious.

Dream took mental note of the odd fact. Leverage was leverage, no matter how confusing.

* * *

Finally, finally, Sam was finished.

From his spying, Dream knew that Techno loved tea, and that Phil would often experiment with new blends for the two to try. It was a simple matter to wait until the piglin left the cabin to gather wood, then invent an emergency that got Phil out of the area for the day. Dream brewed a pot of especially fragrant tea with a very special ingredient, then forged a note in Phil’s handwriting, while Punz kept watch. The two men then went upstairs to wait.

It didn’t take long. Techno returned home to what seemed an empty cabin. They listened to him discover the teapot.

“I’m a piglin, Phil; we’re carnivores,” Dream heard him mutter.

Punz shifted uneasily beside him, and Dream couldn’t blame the man. If this didn’t work, they would have to take the piglin by force. The odds were stacked in their favor, two to one, but the results would still be rather bloody for both parties. Maybe the piglin would surrender?

Then they heard a chair scrape across the floor and liquid being poured into a cup, and both men relaxed. Techno drank, and Dream felt himself smile behind his mask. It had worked. The trap had been sprung.

Now all they had to do was wait.

* * *

The piglin didn’t look so dangerous draped over Punz’ shoulder. Dream walked behind the pair, making sure they weren’t followed or seen by anyone that may interfere, but mostly watching his prize.

Sam met them at the entrance to the prison, then walked them through to the maximum security cell. Dream helped steady Punz as the flying machine bridge made its way across the lava chasm.

Punz went to lay his burden on the blackstone bench. “Wait a sec,” Dream said. Then took off the piglin’s cloak and draped it over the bench.

“Why?” Punz asked, voice curious.

“I’m not a monster, Punz,” he replied.

Punz thought a moment, shrugged, and laid Techno on the cloak.

* * *

Dream wanted to be there when Techno woke for good in his new home.

But he was not a stupid man. So when the piglin showed signs of finally being rid of the poison, Dream wore his netherite chestplate and brought rope to protect himself until he could explain to Techno the rules of his new position in the server.

Speaking of positions ... Dream almost giggled as he removed the piglin’s leather leg wraps and rolled his shirt up to the elbows to tie him hand and hoof. He stepped back and admired his work, feeling another smile spread across his hidden face. Dream wondered if the dumb piglin would get the joke, or if he would have to explain it to him.

The masked man then settled in to wait.

* * *

One of Techno’s most attractive features, in Dream’s opinion, was his hair.

Piglins didn’t have hair, so the fact that Techno _did_ must have been some quirk of genetics from his human side. It was long and silky and straight as a pin and a peachy shade of pink.

Dream sat beside him on the bench, running his fingers through the soft hair and stroking his ear. He gently ghosted his nails over the scalp when he felt Techno come to.

“Hmmmh?” the piglin grunted in confusion.

“Welcome back,” Dream cooed gently. “I hope you rested well?”

Techno tried to rise. But with his hands tied as they were, he simply couldn’t lever himself upright. He couldn't even raise his torso high enough to turn his head on the unyielding bench. He snorted out a series of sounds similar to the ones Dream had heard the piglins use when trading.

“Was that ... some sort of language?” he asked his captive with a laugh.

Techno took a moment to answer. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Dream,” he finally said, “but I’m part piglin. The Piglin language is my mother tongue.”

“Mmm,” Dream responded blandly. He resumed stroking his captive’s hair.

“Dream?” Techno said.

“Hmm?” Dream responded.

“Any chance I can get out of this hog tie? I’m not really a fan of stress positions, if I’m being honest.”

“In just a moment,” Dream answered. “First of all, you and I need to have a talk about Phil.”

Beside him, Techno tensed at the name, just a little. “What about Phil?” he asked blandly.

“Well, I’m worried about him,” Dream said with a sigh. “The man is on his last life! It would be a shame if something was to happen to him, don’t you think?” Techno didn’t respond. “And not just something fatal! I mean, imagine if he was to, say, break a wing, and be unable to fly until it mended? Or if he was to lose a finger?” He paused again. “Actually, quick question: if you were to choose, for no particular reason, which finger would you most want Phil to lose first?”

Beside him, Techno had gone very, very still. “I think I don’t want to find out the answer to that question,” he finally said, voice as quiet as Dream had ever heard it.

Dream grinned broadly behind his mask. “Glad to hear we’re on the same page,” he said brightly. Then reached over and undid Techno’s ropes.

Techno stood slowly, stiffly. He rolled his shoulders and held his arms in front of him, stretching out muscles that were probably a little cramped. The motion pulled his dress shirt tight against his body.

That body would soon be naked beneath him.

Dream felt himself growing aroused at the thought.

Something, some sound or scent, clued Techno in. He turned to look back at Dream, saw his tented trousers, and for a moment, for a _brief_ moment, his eyes widened in shock. Then he went back to his normal bland expression, but Dream had seen what he had seen. He also saw the way his eyes avoided looking back at Dream.

Dream didn’t try to hide himself or stop his arousal; why should he? The body in front of him was now his for the taking, whenever and however he pleased. There was nothing, _nothing,_ that anyone could do to stop him, let alone Technoblade himself.

Techno had a tail. It curled out in a corkscrew from underneath his sash. Dream had no idea; it was normally covered by his cloak.

Under his mask, Dream licked his lips. “Technoblade?” he cooed like a dove.

“Yeah?” Techno replied, still avoiding his eye.

“Come back and sit with me,” Dream said in a voice sweet and sticky like syrup.


	6. Technoblade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains explicit descriptions of non-consensual sex. Basically, Dream rapes Technoblade. That’s all that happens this chapter. If that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable, this chapter can be skipped without missing any details important to the story.
> 
> Stay safe, lovely readers. <3

“Come back and sit with me,” Dream demanded, in that sticky voice he used when he was trying to be flirty.

And Techno was no stranger to sex. Most of his experiences had been with female piglins or piglin hybrids like himself, but he had experimented with female humans as well and, one memorable trading expedition to the Nether, with a male piglin brute. But those events had been joyful and full of laughter and mutual pleasure.

This, he knew, would be selfish and violent.

Reluctantly, with a sigh, he walked back and sat on the bench where he was told. “Am I here because I refused to sleep with you, Dream?” he asked as casually as possible.

Dream reached over and untied the sash around his waist. He felt the silky material unwind around his body as Dream folded it neatly and put it on the bench on his other side. Techno saw the gleam of his crown beside it. “You are here because you are a danger to the safety and security of this server,” Dream answered. Then paused. “Although fucking you is a bonus I’m going to enjoy very, very much.”

“Glad to know one of us will,” Techno drawled wryly.

Dream paused, then laughed. “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of you, too,” he flirted, and the sound grated on Techno’s ears. Dream reached over to slip a hand down the front of his pants, down his underwear, and grope him.

Techno grunted before he could stop himself, but was careful not to flinch away. The sooner Dream did what he wanted, the faster this could be over. His eyes found a clock on the wall and he watched the second hand go around and around with an almost religious intensity.

He also purposefully didn’t react as he felt himself stiffening in Dream’s hand. His own arousal made him nauseous.

His lack of reaction seemed to anger Dream. The man stood and grabbed the collar of his shirt in both hands and _pulled,_ sending buttons flying everywhere. Dream kept going, quickly removing the garment entirely.

He didn’t react. He didn’t react as Dream threw the ruined shirt into the lava. He didn’t react as Dream pulled his trousers off and put them with his sash.

“Stand,” Dream commanded. And he did.

He didn’t react, didn’t react, _didn’t react_ as Dream pulled his underwear down and placed it in his own inventory. He _didn’t react_ as Dream seemed pleased with what he found.

Dream sat back on the bench. Techno could feel his gaze travel up and down his body and resisted the urge to cover himself with his hands. It didn’t matter if Dream looked. _It didn’t matter._

“Come closer,” Dream cooed. The man’s good humor must have returned somewhere. Techno obeyed.

All his stoicism went out the window when Dream took his dick into his own mouth. The warm moisture enveloped his member and he gasped before he could stop himself.

Dream pulled back and _laughed._ “I told you I’d take care of you,” the man all but bragged. “You should feel honored; I haven’t done this for anyone in a long time.”

He should feel honored. Techno reminded himself of that fact when Dream sunk his mouth back around his dick. He went back to watching the clock tick and wondered what he should do with his hands.

Dream finally seemed satisfied. “Look at you, all hard for me,” he laughed. “But I’m not letting you finish that easy.” The eyes of his mask stared through Techno’s skin.

Dream draped Techno’s cloak across the lectern in the corner. Techno found himself following it, sprawled over the wooden structure while Dream tied his hands to the back of the podium with his own sash. The silk lining of the cloak caressed his naked body. He thought that he’d probably prefer the wood.

The _pop_ of a bottle being opened was his only warning. Something slender and slick poked at his entrance.

It was instinct, pure instinct, that made him stomp a hoof in warning.

The finger withdrew, only to return with reinforcements. A palm slapped him, hard, across the buttocks. He grunted in pain. “Behave,” Dream warned sharply. Then grabbed the base of his tail for leverage with one hand before continuing to probe with the fingers of the other.

He felt the finger slide past the ring of muscle, to one knuckle, then two, then three. He felt the finger retreat, only to return. He couldn’t stop his muscles from clenching at the violation, couldn’t seem to relax them; but it didn’t matter. Dream’s intrusion eventually wore the muscles down.

“Please,” he gasped into the fur of his cloak. “Don’t.” Dream didn’t even dignify the plea with a response.

One finger became two. Two fingers became three. He supposed he should be grateful that Dream was taking his time to prep him, but the gratitude felt hollow.

Eventually, the fingers left and didn’t return. Eventually, they were replaced with something larger.

Techno felt something blunt and soft against his entrance and kept his mouth shut, didn’t make a sound, as Dream entered him.

Dream didn’t feel inclined to do the same. “You’re so tight,” he laughed into Techno’s ear. The breath from that laugh tickled the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Am I your first? I’m flattered!”

 _Don't be,_ he thought. “First in awhile,” he said instead.

“Well,” Dream said. He pulled himself out. “Not many can best the great Technoblade, huh?” And punctuated that sentence by thrusting back in.

Techno _really_ didn’t want to be having this conversation right now. “Somethin’ like that,” he drawled.

The man was deranged.

Dream laughed again. “Oh Techno,” he moaned, “you and I are going to have so much fun together.” And started to thrust in and out in earnest.

Techno really, really wished he wasn’t good at this. Because Dream had found a spot in his body that Techno had forgotten about, and started pounding it mercilessly. Techno turned his head to bite his own shoulder, and wasn’t sure whether or not he was keeping moans of pleasure or vomit from escaping his mouth.

Suddenly Dream reached around and grabbed his dick. He pumped it once, twice, ...

... and Technoblade felt himself coming all over the lectern.

Dream was right behind him. The man’s thrusting became erratic, and then something hot and liquid filled his insides.

Techno didn’t move. He laid there, hands still tied, sweaty and messy, while Dream pulled out. Felt Dream stroke his flank like an animal’s. Felt him lay a kiss, of all things, between his shoulder blades, the edge of his mask scraping the skin. Felt Dream take a rag or towel of some sort dipped in the water from the cauldron and clean him up. Finally, finally, felt himself being untied.

He rose slowly, feeling like a stranger in his own skin. Dream handed him his trousers and he put them on mechanically.

”I’ll have Sam bring you a new shirt later,” Dream was saying. He took Techno’s sash, sticky with his release, and tossed it into the lava.

His crown, Dream placed on his own head.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he drawled in what Techno recognized as a mockery of his own voice.

Techno watched him leave, watched the lava recede and the flying bridge cross the gorge, watched the lava return. The smell of arousal and semen filled the air.

There was a bucket by the cauldron, presumably to drink from. Techno barely made it before emptying the contents of his stomach into it.


	7. Interlude: Phil

Philza thought of himself as a simple man. He loved life, loved his family and friends. He loved luxuries and finery as much as the next person, but was satisfied with basic comfort.

Like Techno’s cabin in the snow. After the man had freed him from house arrest in L’Manburg, the avian hybrid had happily moved in with his old friend. He could have moved on, built another home close by; he was known for his building skills, after all. But the piglin and the bird had settled into a familiar domestic routine that Phil felt was _right_ deep in his hollow bones.

A warm fire, good friends, and a teapot was all the man needed.

So when Ranboo messaged him from L’Manburg, panicked that he couldn’t find his memory book, he didn’t hesitate to drop everything and fly as fast as his wings could carry him back to the country that had treated him so poorly. All for a teen that he was coming to count as one of his friends.

“I don’t know where it could have gone,” Ranboo said, wringing his hands. “I always keep it on me.”

“We’ll find it; don’t worry, mate,” Phil reassured him.

* * *

It turned into a group effort. Phil tried to stay out of view of Tubbo and Tommy, who were assisting the search, as well as Quackity, who wasn’t.

Fundy and Niki searched together around the docks. Puffy and Karl searched around Party Island. Sapnap searched around L’Mantree and the dunk tank. Ponk searched around the new White House.

It was BadBoyHalo that eventually found it, several hours later, in the Camarvan.

“I have no idea how it could have gotten there,” Ranboo claimed. But the enderman hybrid clutched the book to himself gratefully.

* * *

It occurred to Philza on his way back that he hadn’t told Technoblade where he had gone. They came and went as they pleased; it’s not like they had to check in with each other regularly. But they were both wanted men with a lot of enemies. It was just a good idea to keep in regular conversation, especially if something unexpected had come up.

 _Techno,_ Phil messaged his friend.

He was expecting an answer; Techno always answered him. At worst, he expected silence from a Techno too busy or focused to talk.

What he did _not_ expect was for his message to refuse to send in the first place. His comm couldn’t find Techno’s comm.

He was so shocked he had to land. The only time he had seen an error like that was when trying to message someone who had lost their final life. But Technoblade had all three of his lives remaining. Frantically, he searched the message log, terrified that something catastrophic had happened and he somehow had missed it.

But there wasn’t a single death message from that day, much less one for Techno. Much less _three_ death messages for Techno.

What was going on?

He tried to keep panic at bay as he flew the rest of the way to their cabin. He landed practically on the porch and charged inside.

”Technoblade?” he shouted. “Where are you, mate?”

The fire in the fireplace had long died out. The cabin was dark and quiet.

In the darkness, a body lay on the floor.

“Techno!” he yelled in panic. He was running forwards before he even realized he was moving.

It wasn’t Techno. When he got closer, he could see the gray fur and lack of clothes. Em lay completely still and hadn’t responded to his shout. But he could see her ribs move up and down as she breathed.

The next thing he saw was the shards of what had once been a cup scattered across the floor.

He looked at the table and saw the teapot. Had Techno brewed a pot? Then left it out? That didn’t make sense.

There was a note laying beside the pot. He snatched it up, but it only increased his confusion. It had been written by him? Except he had never written this note. And he certainly hadn’t brewed the tea. And what had happened to Em?

He lifted the teapot’s top. The contents smelled strongly, a cacophony of scents; but Phil knew teas, and could categorize what scent was what with only a little trouble.

The unmistakable smell of a sleeping potion stood out from the rest. And suddenly things started clicking together.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

The cold feeling of dread climbed up his spine. The cabin was far enough out that they rarely entertained visitors. Especially ones that didn’t message ahead of time. Add in the drugged teapot, and Phil had a feeling he wasn’t going to enjoy this visit.

Dream stood outside the door when Phil opened it. The first thing he noticed was how smug the man was able to look, even with his face covered by the mask. The next thing he noticed...

Dream’s hood was down. Nestled in his sandy hair, he had placed a familiar crown.

”Dream,” Phil groaned. “What have you done?”

“Philza,” Dream greeted him warmly. “Just the man I wanted to see. It’s cold outside; why don’t you invite me in?”

Phil said nothing, just stepped away and left the door open. He heard Dream enter and stomp the snow off his boots. Phil ignored him while he revived the fire. Then picked up Em’s limp form and placed her in her favorite spot in front of the fireplace.

“I’m glad to hear that Ranboo found his book okay,” Dream said, pulling a chair out and sitting at their table.

Phil clamped down harshly on the rage he felt building inside of him. Ranboo’s missing memory book had been rather conveniently timed. “Make yourself at home,” he told Dream. “Care for some tea?” He gestures to the drugged pot on the table.

“No, elders first, I insist,” Dream said with a smirk.

Phil didn’t respond, just took the pot and emptied the contents out a window. It would have to be scrubbed thoroughly before he could use it again. “Where’s Techno?” he asked instead.

Dream sat back in the chair. “He’s fine; don’t worry!” he said with a chuckle. “He ... took sick. So we moved him somewhere that he could recover safely.”

Phil couldn’t hold his tongue anymore. “You sick son of a bitch,” he bit out. “He was your ally! How could-”

“Easily,” Dream interrupted him. “Techno is a loose cannon. He’s my ally ... for now. But how long until our interests diverge?” Dream shrugged. “Why take the risk? Better to have him where he can’t do any harm.”

Phil seethed. It made sense, in a sick sort of way. Just one problem. “Why tell me this?” he demanded.

Dream laughed. “Because Technoblade isn’t the only loose cannon on this server.”

Ah. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting me to join Techno in this ‘safe place’?” He snarled.

Dream actually seemed surprised by that. “Oh, no, nothing like that!” he insisted with a laugh. “No, you’re free to come and go as you please. You can even visit Techno if you want.”

He paused. “Of course, if you were to cause trouble for me or my friends, I cannot guarantee that Techno’s ‘safe place’ would stay safe.” Another pause. “I wonder how well he’d be able to handle a sword in the future if, say, his hand was to broken and improperly set? I’d imagine that would be pretty devastating, don’t you think?”

Phil couldn’t stop a sneer. “I think it’s time for you to leave,” he spat out.

Dream laughed again. “Fair enough. And like I said, you can visit your old war buddy any time you’d like. Message Sam for directions.” He stood to leave, the paused. “Just remember what we talked about.”

Like Phil could ever forget.


	8. Technoblade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains non-explicit details of a rape. Just so you can be prepared. <3

Sam came a few hours later.

Techno was laying on the bench when he heard dispensers firing. He remembered the sound when Dream left. Twisted around to see what was happening, he saw the creeper hybrid crossing the bridge, and relaxed.

“I’ve brought you a shirt,” Sam said.

The smell of sex was still heavy in the air. Techno could tell the second Sam noticed it.

He rolled back over to stare at the wall.

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’ll put it here on the bench,” he said, then seemed to compose himself. “You are now a prisoner of Pandora’s Vault. You will not be allowed to leave this room without permission directly from me and a guard escort. Your communicator is being blocked, but you can receive visitors at any time. The Vault has a respawn anchor in place so any deaths within prison grounds aren’t permanent, but you will always respawn in your cell. You’ll be fed twice a day. Any reasonable requests will be granted.”

“I’ll take a stack of ender pearls and a netherite pickaxe,” Techno drawled, just to see what the warden would say.

“There are books in the chest there,” Sam continued without pause. “You can use the lectern-”

“No,” Techno bit out more harshly than he intended.

Sam cleared his throat, obviously taken aback. “You can also request a book or game if you’d like?”

Techno stared at the wall, bored with this conversation.

”Alright,” Sam said with a sigh. “Your communicator will work for me and Dream, but only us. Message me if you need anything.” And he left the way he came.

* * *

He waited until the lava curtain had fallen completely before sitting up. He heard a dispenser again, just one this time, and a splash. Something dropped into the pool of water below the shaft in the corner of his cell.

He walked over to see an object wrapped in plastic. He opened it to find a container holding a small steak and a baked potato, still steaming. The first meal of the day.

He decided, right then and there, that he wouldn’t be around for the second.

* * *

The biggest problem, to his way of thinking, was the mining fatigue. It permeated the air, made every strike of a tool on a block significantly weaker, and therefore took that much longer to break that block.

But Techno was no stranger to mining fatigue. He and Ranboo had explored an ocean monument not too long ago, and he knew that “much longer” and “impossible” were two very different things.

Sam had very rudely refused to give him a pickaxe, but there were other ways. Fists were slower in the best of times, but he had nothing but time.

* * *

Fists were _slow._

Techno felt himself fall into a trance of sorts. He struck the block he had chosen again and again, feeling his arms tire, feeling the impact in his joints. But fists were made for this. He had punched trees down and even punched through solid rock. He would punch through the obsidian.

It was just gonna take some time.

* * *

It took 25 hours.

His fist had long-since gone completely numb. His arm ached in a way that made him worried that something may be fractured. But finally, _finally,_ it has broken. He probably would have to wait to heal before doing another. This escape may take longer than anticipated. He watched it fall away ...

... to reveal an observer.

 _Shit,_ he thought to himself, as sirens filled the air.

* * *

So. That didn’t go to plan.

Techno was no idiot, and knew when he had been beat. He waited meekly on his bench for the lava to stop and a large group of guards to come over. He didn’t complain as Bad and Antfrost kept him sitting and restrained his wrists while Punz watched him suspiciously. Sam found the block he had broken and replaced it. The general attitude was smug as the guards left and the lava returned.

* * *

The next day, he almost jumped when his comm came to life. _You have a visitor,_ Sam said in his ear. Techno sat up and waited for the lava to recede, wondering what fresh hell they had invented for him.

Across the chasm, he spotted a familiar bucket hat and a dark set of wings. He watched, shocked, as Phil came across the bridge.

Both men waited wordlessly while the bridge retracted and the lava curtain fell again. Then, suddenly, Phil was right there, and it was _Phil,_ and Phil’s arms were suddenly around him. Techno jumped, remembering Dream; but these arms were soft and familiar and comforting. Techno buried his face in Phil’s shoulder and inhaled.

“How are you doing, mate?” Phil asked warmly.

Techno laughed into Phil’s neck. “Y’know, I’m not sure about this resort, Phil,” he drawled. “I think I might see about getting my money back.”

Phil chuckled, and Techno could both hear and feel the laughter.

“To be honest,” Techno continued, “I’m surprised they let you visit me. They don’t seem to be a fan of outside contact.”

“I would have visited sooner. They wouldn’t let me come yesterday. Said that you were being naughty.”

It was Techno’s turn to chuckle. “Just keeping them guessing,” he said. “I broke one of the obsidian blocks in the cell. Was gonna dig my way out.”

Phil whistled. “With mining fatigue? That must’ve taken fuckin’ forever, mate!”

Techno hummed in agreement. “25 hours. And I hit an observer.”

Phil actually laughed. “It wouldn’t’ve mattered anyway,” he said. “The lava curtain surrounds your cell on all six sides.”

And that was news to him. “Damn,” he said.

Phil laughed again. “We’ll figure something else out,” he reassured him. “Because I’m promise you, Technoblade, I’m getting you out of here.”

Techno sighed, and squeezed Phil harder. For just a second, he let himself pretend that he believed that.

* * *

Dream visited him a few hours after Phil left. And although Sam hadn’t reacted to the knowledge of what Dream had done during his last visit, Techno noted with surprise that Sam announced Dream by name on his comm.

Techno had hoped that Dream had gotten his ... _desires_ out of the way a few days ago. But Dream buzzed with a dangerous mixture of smug, furious, and horny. The first words out of his mouth were to order Techno to strip.

The cloak was left where it still hung on the lectern. Techno was laid on the bare obsidian floor, and felt the smooth material against his bare back.

Dream was cruel today in his pursuit of pleasure. Sam must have told him about the failed escape attempt, because there was no coy flirting or faux generosity today. Just a perfunctory prep before Dream pulled himself out of his unzipped pants.

Techno turned his head away from what was happening. In that turn, though, something caught his eye. Dream’s pants were bulged open at the front, but that was causing his pockets to also bulge open. Something gleamed in one pocket, something round and a shimmery blue-green color that Techno recognized right away.

He studied Dream carefully out of the corner of his eye. But the man was close to finishing, and paying no attention to his surroundings.

Gently as he could, Technoblade removed the object from Dream’s pocket. And gently he rolled it, so it wouldn’t make a noise or count as a throw, until it came to rest just under the lectern.

And he began to plan.

It wasn’t much longer until Dream was satisfied. “Stay,” he commanded, walking over to the cauldron to wet a towel. Techno said nothing as Dream used the towel to clean himself up, then kneeled between Techno’s knees to clean him up. Then spent a moment enjoying the view.

Techno had other things to worry about.

“Alright, you can get dressed,” Dream said. He paid Techno no mind as the piglin hybrid picked up his clothes and moved to stand beside the lectern. He was putting himself to rights when Techno bent down to grab the hem of his trousers. Smoothly, so as not to draw attention to himself, Techno palmed his stolen item from under the lectern and stuffed it in his own pocket.

Dream waited for him to put on his new shirt, a basic purple tee with “PROPERTY OF PANDORA’S VAULT” stenciled on the back. He came over and cupped Techno’s cheek gently. Techno forced himself not to flinch away.

Then he left.

Techno waited until the bridge had started to move back across the lava chasm with Dream standing on it. He then pulled the ender pearl out of his pocket and threw it to the room across the gap.


	9. Technoblade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a bit early today. Please note that this chapter contains somewhat graphic violence as well as a mention of a past rape. <3

The familiar shock of ender pearl travel, the cold feeling of the void, washed over Technoblade. He had no time to waste shaking it off. Every fraction of a second counted.

He heard Sam cry out in shock as he appeared out of thin air, heard Dream shout in rage. He ignored them. Looking around frantically, he found what he wanted, and lunged towards it-

-only to be tackled to the floor by a creeper hybrid hissing angrily. He struggled to stand, to move, to _run;_ but it was no use. Sam had him pinned tightly against the floor, and Dream soon followed.

He couldn’t die now. And Dream was none too gentle when angered. So Techno put his hands up, loosened his body. Let them feel as well as see his surrender.

Rough hands pulled him up. His wrists and elbows were seized. “Okay, okay!” he said, trying to make them see he wasn’t resisting.

Sam let go of his elbow, but grabbed both his wrists. Dream released him entirely, to punch him in the face, then the gut.

He grunted in pain, bent over, let them see he was hurt. Let them see he wouldn’t retaliate. Hung his head and watched blood drip from his nose onto the stone brick floor.

Then the floor was moving, and Dream was taking him back to his cell.

Dream was yelling at him; had been yelling for some time, he realized. “What the _fuck_ did you expect to get from that, huh?!” he raged.

“I figured it was worth the try,” Techno said with a shrug in return.

“And how did that _try_ work? When will you realize how _powerless_ you are here, huh?” Dream seethed. “I own you, Technoblade. I. _Own._ You.”

“Bruuuuh,” Techno responded.

Dream wasn’t done. “I can do _anything_ I want to you, and you can’t stop me. Remember that, Techno.” The bridge came to a stop at the cell, and Dream pushed him roughly onto the obsidian. “Or I’ll _make_ you remember.”

Then the bridge was receding, and the lava returned, and he was once again alone.

* * *

Techno gave it a day, for everyone to calm down. He half-expected Dream to show up at some point just to rub home how powerless Techno was in his little cell, but the prison was quiet for the rest of the day. He received his evening and morning meals and actually ate them, instead of just throwing them into the lava. For the first time since he got here, he had an appetite.

Then it was time.

“How am I going to do this?” he muttered to himself. But, unpleasant as it was, there was only one answer.

It didn’t matter anyway. He was a child of the Nether. Lava didn’t scare him.

He started at the back of the cell and took a running jump, just to keep from chickening out at the last second. The lava enveloped him, almost pleasant for a split second, but then his whole body was wracked in agony. He opened his mouth to scream ...

* * *

_Technoblade tried to swim in lava_

* * *

The feeling of respawning was nothing new to a fighter like himself. He has done it hundreds of times in tournament on Hypixel and MC Mondays.

When he respawned, he had the time to look around the room at his leisure. From the bed where he had reset his spawn when he pearled across the day before to the controls for the bridge.

The lava curtain fell on.

There was a wide staircase leading down. Techno took the stairs two at a time and found yet another curtain of lava. There were two honey blocks in front and a panel of levers to the side.

Well, time to get started.

He walked over to the panel to read the signs above the levers when the sound of pistons firing reached him. He ran over and pressed his back against the obsidian right beside the piston noises.

He was just in time. Two polished blackstone blocks were retracted, and Antfrost in full netherite walked through. He didn’t seem in any sort of hurry or alarmed in any way. A guard doing his rounds? Without seeing Techno, Ant turned towards the stairs and stared walking up.

As silently as he could, mindful of his hooves clicking against the obsidian floor, he snuck through the doorway. The blackstone blocks slotted back into place behind him.

He found himself in an access corridor of some sort. Perhaps for guards to move around? He trotted down the corridor and found another pair of blackstone blocks. There was a single button beside it; he pushed it and the blocks slotted into the wall, letting him pass.

Whatever the lava curtain with honey blocks was, he realized he was on the other side of it. This room had another bed, an entire row of levers, a cubby of some sort, and two lectures to one side. The only way out seemed a small tunnel filled with water. Techno set his spawn at this new point and started swimming.

* * *

_Technoblade drowned_

* * *

Okay, so the shaft of water was too long to swim unaided. He sat up, sputtering, the feeling of water in his lungs still fresh in his mind, and gasped for breath.

It had been awhile since he had drowned. He hadn’t missed the sensation.

There had to be some way survive the swim. There were no dispensers or hoppers around the duct, and the water was stagnant; it wasn’t an item delivery service of any kind. Aside for the guard tunnel, the duct and the lava curtain were the only ways into this room. Why else have it, if not for swimming?

He walked over to the levers. “Bridge” ... “Bed trap” ... “Water breathing”! He pulled the lever, and a polished blackstone block popped up in the cubby, just as dispensers fired. The distinct sound of a splash potion breaking could be heard.

So it was accomplished with water breathing potions? How was he going to get-

Just then, a very familiar siren started going off. He cursed, looking desperately around for somewhere to hide. But Sam and Punz came through the water duct just as Ant came running through the guard tunnel.

“The hell?” Sam muttered, but Techno ignored him. He wasn’t going down so easily this time. Armor was great, but it could be countered; and Techno knew how to punch up. He rushed towards Ant, ducked under the sword swiped at him, and grabbed the cat hybrid’s head. The best armor in the world couldn’t stop Ant’s neck from snapping when twisted far enough.

Ant’s items fell to the ground with a crash. Techno pulled the helmet on and was getting on the chestplate when Sam and Punz reached him. He swiped up Ant’s sword and swung it at the pair. They jumped back, out of range, and for a moment Technoblade wondered if he could do this. Both men were good fighters, but even together they weren’t half the warrior he was. Sam swiped at him and he countered, easily bringing his blade up to block Punz’s blow. It was looking like-

A searing pain shot up his spine. He turned to see Ant, having respawned and gotten more gear somehow, pulling his sword out of Techno’s back. He collapsed to the floor, a puppet with its strings cut, and as the black took him the last thing he saw was the looks of relief on the three guards’ faces as they thought it was over.

He respawned in the corner of the same room. He killed Punz the same way he had Ant before they even realized he was still there. But he had no time to pick up so much as a knife this time as Sam and Ant recovered quickly. They swiped at his unarmed form threateningly, working as a team. He got a few good strikes in, but little by little was forced to concede ground. Then Punz showed up, followed by Dream and Bad, and it was over.

Him, unarmed and unarmored, against five opponents in full netherite. He didn’t stand a chance.

“Man fights like a demon,” Sam muttered, wiping the blood from his split lip where Techno had punched him. “No offense, Bad.”

“None taken,” Bad reassured his friend.

“What I want to know is how he got so far,” Dream spoke up. He had Techno on the ground, lying on his stomach, with his hands cuffed behind him. Dream was kneeling on him to keep him down. Techno had decided not to make it easy on him, and tested his hold now and then.

Sam snorted. “He’s not even halfway through the prison, Dream,” he said. “He got much farther than I would have expected, but ...” He gestured to the water filled tunnel and shrugged.

Not even halfway through. Techno stopped fighting.

* * *

He lay on the floor of his cell in too much agony to do anything else.

Dream had walked him over the lava chasm and then proceeded to punch him. Face, ribs, kidneys. He had seen this coming, so he wasn’t too surprised when Dream began to beat him in earnest. Nor was he that surprised when Dream ripped off his clothes and...

Techno felt himself retching again, but his stomach had been emptied long ago of its contents and so all he could do was ride out the dry heaves.

”Oh,” a voice said above him. He looked up to see Sam standing over him. He hadn’t even heard the dispensers or the bridge. “Fuck.”

Sam picked him up with arms that were surprisingly gentle and placed his body on the bench. The sound of something being dipped in water could be heard, and then Sam was back, cleaning the blood and puke and other things off his body. Sam dressed him in a pair of pants the same purple as the tee Dream had ruined.

The creeper hybrid seemed to hesitate, then helped Techno to raise his head. The sound of a potion being uncorked could be heard out of his range of vision. Suddenly, something liquid was being poured into his mouth. He recognized the fruity, tangy taste of a healing pot. Then another, and it had the smoky taste of a sleeping pot.

He drank both eagerly, and welcomed the way his vision was already going cloudy.

The last thing he sensed, before the sleeping pot did its magic, was the _snap_ of something metal settling into place around his neck.


	10. Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s a little short. It also contains mentions of disordered eating. Just FYI. Stay safe! <3

Dream was not a happy man.

He _should_ be happy. He had everything he wanted. Both of Tommy’s discs. Tommy and Tubbo both under his influence. Technoblade in prison. Phil in a different kind of prison. Nothing, nothing at all, could stop him now.

Yet everything seemed to be spiraling out of his control.

Tommy was obstinate as ever, discs or no discs. Tubbo deferred to his cabinet more often than not. He probably was going to have to kill the child president at one point or another just to keep Tommy in line.

Worst of all, people’s opinion towards Technoblade were ... changing.

As Tubbo continued to take what he wanted from his citizens and call it “taxes”, and the entire cabinet used their position to do whatever they wanted without repercussions, the average citizen started realizing just how corrupt the government of L’Manburg was. Techno’s extreme views were suddenly being seen as less and less extreme. The failed execution was seen by the general public as proof of the government’s corruption. Techno was becoming a sort of folk hero. More than once, Dream had heard citizens of L’Manburg mutter “blood for the Blood God” under their breaths when discussing their government’s failures.

Then some brave soul tried to _contact_ Techno and their comm wouldn’t connect. Overnight, people started debating about where Technoblade had gone.

Philza was behind this. Dream would bet his best sword on that. But every time he tried to follow the sources of hero worship back to their source, he got nothing. He didn’t even know the name of the citizen that had tried to contact Techno. He didn’t even know who had started the #technomissing hashtag that was now trending on L’Manburg’s local Twitter for five days straight.

* * *

Then there was Technoblade himself.

Dream gave the man a little over a week to recover from his punishment. Sam had told him the result — a broken nose, a swollen eye, several broken ribs, and bruises all over. But Sam had also given him a health pot. He should be fine by now.

Or so he thought.

A day before he was going to visit, he got a message from Sam. _The prisoner Technoblade will not be receiving visitors for the immediate future,_ it said. _Sorry for any inconvenience._

Dream had to read the message twice before it sank in. _Sam,_ he messaged back, _what the fuck man?_

 _Sorry Dream,_ Sam replied.

Okay. So now he was visiting the Vault. Dream headed straight for the nearest Nether portal, to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

“Techno is ... unwell,” Sam told him, and Dream thought it interesting how he almost seemed embarrassed.

But Sam was amazing at what he did, and Dream trusted him. “Unwell how?” he asked neutrally, trying to let Sam see that he wasn’t suspicious or mad.

For some reason, Sam just got more flustered. “He hasn’t been eating,” he said, like it was a confession.

Dream ... didn’t know what to do with this. “A hunger strike?” he asked, because that seemed to be the kind of thing someone in his position would say.

“No, nothing like that,” Sam insisted. “Just ... some jailhouse blues, I think. We’re taking care of it, don’t worry. It’s just ...” and here Sam looked almost sheepish, “I don’t think your ... activities, with the prisoner, are helping things.”

And Dream didn’t know what to say. “Where is he now?” he asked instead.

“In his cell,” Sam assured him. “We haven’t moved him or anything. We can go see, if you’d like? I just gave him a sleeping pot a couple hours ago so he should be out.”

So Sam called Punz to man the lobby, then had Bad meet them at the main cell to let them across. Dream saw a body laying on his bench as the bridge took them closer.

He took a moment to admire the piglin. His beautiful silky pink hair cascaded over his face and down the bench; Dream reached out and gently moved it behind a pointed ear. Around his neck was a golden collar lined with red silk. A thick chain ran from the loop on the front to the obsidian wall behind him. It suited him well, and Dream congratulated himself on the choice of materials.

Then his eyes traveled down the piglin’s body, and he felt himself frowning behind his mask.

When he had first acquired the man, he had been robust and solid, muscular with a healthy layer of fat. An athlete in his prime. Now, Dream could almost count his ribs.

Dream suddenly realized he was furious. “What’s being done?” he asked Sam, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. Dream’s face may be covered, but he could still sense his anger. “His meals will be hand-delivered from now on, and he’ll be observed to make sure he eats them,” he said.

“And if he doesn’t cooperate with you?”

Sam shrugged. “We force the issue,” he said. “I will not have a hunger strike in my prison.”

Dream nodded. “Thank you, Sam,” he said. “You’ve been an excellent warden to this prison.” Dream wasn’t mad at _Sam,_ and he wanted the man to know that.

Sam’s shoulders sagged just a hair, in relief. “Thank you,” he replied, voice just as emotionless as Dream’s.

“And I agree: no visitors.” The last thing Dream needed was for Phil to see his friend like this. He didn’t need any more ammunition for this little crusade of his.

For a split second, Dream wondered if he shouldn’t just throw Phil in with Techno and have done with the whole thing. A golden collar would look good around the avian’s neck, too. It would solve a lot of problems.

But it would create problems, too. He didn’t trust those two together with unrestricted access to one another. Techno’s competence and Phil’s knowledge were a dangerous combination. Besides, it would make it awkward when he fucked the piglin. Dream didn’t want an audience judging his performance.

Phil would stay free, for now.

That decided, Dream left the Vault and started the walk home. And started thinking about ways to bring Phil to heel.


	11. Technoblade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has all the warnings. Disordered eating, a non-explicit rape scene, brief suicidal fantasizing, a panic attack, the works. But this is the beginning of the end. Read safely, my lovelies. <3

Technoblade woke in stages, confused. There was a large lavafall in front of him, and he wondered why he was in the Nether. His mouth tasted cottony, like he had been under for awhile. The smell of water came to him, welcome, and he lifted his head to look for it.

Why was there water in the Nether?

Finally his vision cleared enough to make out the cauldron, and it all came back. Being beaten, being punched and kicked, being handcuffed and unable to defend himself, and then what Dream did when he was too weak to fight, and he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t-

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of the growing panic attack. He looked over, halfway expecting a white mask, to see a green-haired man in a crown. Sam.

“How ... how long was I asleep?” he asked.

“About a day,” Sam told him. “Your wounds are healing nicely. Here.” He pulled at something, and Techno realized Sam had draped his cloak across his body. “I washed it for you,” he told him.

Techno felt the siren call of sleep pulling him down. He nodded, grateful, and pulled his cloak up higher.

“I’ll be sending you some hardy stews,” Sam was saying. “Get some rest. I won’t let anyone visit you for now.”

Techno nodded. He rolled over, and something metal clanked to the bench in front of him. Suddenly he wasn’t sleepy anymore.

His hands flew up to feel at his neck, and found cold metal there.

Sam must have seen his horror. “You shouldn’t have tried to escape,” he said simply.

He didn’t respond. At this point, they might as well collar him like an animal. The humiliation burned in his throat.

“I’ll leave you now,” Sam said. “I’ll be checking in on you in a few days. You can always message me before that if anything happens.”

Techno ignored him, and rolled back over to stare at the wall. Eventually, he went back to sleep.

* * *

The sound of the bridge rumbling across the chasm woke him out of a light doze days later. He opened his eyes to see he was laying on his back on the bench.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked.

Techno rolled over to face the wall and ignored him. He just wanted to sulk in peace.

Sam walked over to the chute in the ceiling where he food was delivered. “What?” he muttered. Techno could hear him counting, then: “you haven’t eaten anything since I was here?! That was five days ago!”

Techno shrugged. “I wasn’t hungry.”

Sam walked over to him lying on his bench and rolled him back onto his back, yanking off his cloak at the same time. Techno punched at him, trying to drive him off, but he was too weak. Sam ignored the punches, just looked down at him in horror.

“Okay,” Sam said. “Okay. Okay.” He started to pace back and forth. Techno felt himself growing dizzy watching him pace, so he closed his eyes.

Suddenly, Sam was there. “Drink this.” A potion bottle was being held to his lips. Techno drank, expecting a healing pot. By the time he realized it was a sleeping pot, it was too late.

* * *

He woke to Sam standing over him again. “Wh- what was that for?” he demanded. He sat up, only to find that he couldn’t.

“Here,” Sam said, and helped him up. “How do you feel?”

Techno glared at the man. “Still in prison,” he said simply.

Sam ignored him. “Drink this,” he said, holding a container up to his mouth.

Techno jerked his head back so fast the bowl almost dumped its contents into his lap. “Nah, nah nah nah nah,” he said. “You got me once with that little trick.”

It honestly seemed to take Sam a moment to catch up. “It’s broth,” he said, holding it up so that Techno could see. Techno stared into the bowl dubiously. It was dark in his cell; and although the bowl’s contents certainly smelled like broth, the contents of the pot he had drank that got him into this mess in the first place smelled like tea.

Sam sighed, and took a sip himself. “See?” he said. Then held the bowl back up to Techno’s mouth.

Techno gave it a moment, just to see if Sam started showing symptoms of anything. When he didn’t, the piglin hybrid nodded and drank the broth.

It was ... good. And strange, having something in his stomach. But then Sam brushed a strand of Techno’s hair back out of his face, putting it behind his ear, and his stomach clenched up. He bit down to try and keep the broth from coming back up.

Sam misunderstood. “It can be hard, being reintroduced to food,” he said soothingly. Then patted Techno’s back. The gesture was probably meant to be soothing, but it was right where Dream kissed him the first time he...

Techno jerked back as if burned. “Don’t touch me,” he managed to bite out. Then threw up all over Sam.

Sam blinked at Techno for a second, looked down at his soiled armor, then back up to Techno. “I see,” he said simply. “Good to- good to know, I guess.” Then stood up and went over to the cauldron to clean himself off. “Would you like some more broth?”

For just a second, just a split second, Techno felt sorry for the creeper hybrid. Then he remembered that Sam knew what had happened to him here and did nothing to stop it, or prevent it from happening again. “I think we’re done here,” he said.

Sam nodded to him. “I’ll see you this evening, then,” he said.

Which was how Techno learned about his new feeding arrangements.

* * *

He got four days of peace.

They were only peaceful in context. Sam came twice a day and made him eat. Broth at first, then soft foods like baked potatoes and cooked carrots. And although it felt good to have food in his stomach, and even though it felt good to have the energy to do something more than just lay on the bench all day, there were warning bells in his head the entire time.

Dream didn’t want to fuck a skeleton. That much was clear. So as he looked down at his body with its protruding ribs and collarbone, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he should leave it like that.

In the end, it didn’t matter. On the fifth day, Dream paid him a visit.

* * *

“Look what you’ve done to yourself,” Dream scolded, running his hands up and down his torso. Techno wondered if he could get to the lava fast enough to kill himself before Dream pulled him back. Then remembered the collar. He’d never get that far.

Dream was a fan of the collar. “Gold is your color,” he said, running his hand through his hair, and of _course_ gold was Techno’s color, gold and red. That’s why he wore them. Dream’s hand moved down to run along the collar.

“Sam doesn’t think I should be here so soon,” Dream said. “But Sam has the day off. Besides, you seem to need a refresher on how things work around here.”

* * *

The bucket was Techno’s best friend at this point. He waited until the lava fell again before depositing the hard-earned calories from his stomach into it. Then curled up on his bench, facing the wall. Let the guard that came to feed him clean up their mess.

Too soon, far too soon, the bridge came back across. It wasn’t time to be fed. Therefore...

Dream must want more.

Techno tried to hide the way his hands were shaking. He waited for that syrupy-sweet voice to say something. Waited for possessive hands to brush along his body and take what wasn’t theirs. Waited for-

“And what the _fuck_ has been happening here, then?”

Techno knew that voice. “Phil?” he all but sobbed, twisting around.

“Techno,” Phil said. “Techno, mate.” He walked towards him, lying on the bench. “What have they been-”

He got close enough to see Techno’s body and paled.

Techno realized that Phil was angry. He also realized that the smell of sex was still strong in the air, and that he himself was half naked. He realized in a flash what this must look like, and why Phil was so furious.

“No, Phil, this isn’t what it looks like,” he said, because if _Phil_ hated him, he didn’t know what he would do.

Several emotions crossed Philza’s face in rapid succession. Confusion, realization, pain, and finally a rage that Technoblade remembered well. He had seen that face topple empires, had seen it slay gods, had seen it pull civilizations to the ground and pound them into dust.

Techno was reminded why one of Phil’s names was the Angel of Death.

“I know it’s not, mate,” he said, and suddenly the Angel was gone and it was just Phil. And Phil was holding him and stroking his hair, and normally he hated that because it made him think of Dream. But this was Phil, just Phil, and Phil smelled like home.

He didn’t weep. Technoblade didn’t know if he even remembered how to weep. But he lay in Phil’s arms and trembled. And that was good enough.

* * *

“You’re lucky you came when you did,” Techno told him later. “Sam wouldn’t have let you through to see me.”

Phil laughed. “Luck has nothing to do with it, mate,” he confessed. “I’ve been keeping tabs on the comings and goings of this prison. I knew Sam wouldn’t let me through, but I figured that someone else would.” He shrugged. “I _was_ lucky that it was Punz, though. The man will do anything for money. One diamond block later, and...” He gestured to the cell.

And suddenly Techno remembered where he was, and that eventually Phil would have to go. And he’d be alone here again. He made sure to not let the devastation show on his face.

But Phil seemed to have the same thought. “It was Dream that ... hurt you, right?” he asked.

He wouldn’t have been able to talk about this with anybody else. But Phil? “He, ah ... _propositioned_ me, right before the Manburg festival,” he told him. “I don’t think the man takes rejection well.”

And Phil, bless him, laughed at the stupid joke. “That’s good to know,” he said; and for just a second the Angel flashed in his eyes. “Give me 48 hours.”

Did Techno miss something? “Forty-eight hours for what?” he asked.

But Phil just smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has fanart! Done by OH BOY, who has been a huge support for this fanfic.
> 
> Go take a look!
> 
> https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/759628360367603732/807565519720939530/fanart.jpg


	12. Interlude: Phil

Phil left the Vault and immediately took to the skies. He had known that the prison conditions his friend lived in weren’t ideal, of course. But he hadn’t had a clue it was even close to that bad. Hadn’t realized how much of a monster Dream could be.

He thought of Techno, body much too small, having just been used to satisfy Dream’s perverse desires, and convinced that Phil would hate _him_ for it. He thought of what had been done to his friend, and a wave of fury and grief threatened to ground him.

He pushed it to the side. He had a lot of work to do.

* * *

A new rumor popped up in L’Manburg and the greater SMP area. It was spread by mouth, on social media, even popped up in graffiti. _Dream has Technoblade,_ it said. _He grew jealous of his power and locked him in his prison, and is torturing him._ What exactly that torture was, every person had their own opinion. It was morbid, but kept people talking.

Overnight, opinions of Dream plummeted.

Then it somehow got out that the Prison had a respawn anchor, and it was done. People were talking about rushing Pandora’s Vault. Technoblade was their hero, a Robin Hood trying to save people from the oppression of their government, and they wouldn’t let him be martyred.

The assault was scheduled for the next day.

* * *

On the one hand, the sooner he got Techno out of Pandora’s Vault — and out of Dream’s control — the better. On the other, his timetable has just been squeezed down to practically nothing.

Phil flew through the day, meeting with various people. Debts were called in. Friendships were rekindled. Alliances were brokered. And finally, he was satisfied.

* * *

Then he focused on gear. His armor was superb, the best that could be had for any price; but it was for a wide variety of situations. It was general use. He needed something more specific. So he spent all night reforging a new set. It was a rush job; but he was skilled enough that even his fastest work was better than many’s best tries.

In honor of Techno, he edged the netherite with golden accents.

The enchantments were not rushed; he wouldn’t dare. He poured all the skill he had into Unbreaking, Thorns, Depth Strider, Respiration, and Blast Protection. A librarian in the local village was not happy to be woken in the middle of the night, but was convinced to sell him four books of Mending at double their regular price.

He already had a sword with Smite. He pulled it out of his ender chest and sharpened it until it could shave the fine hairs off his arm.

* * *

His final preparation was the shortest and easiest.

Techno thought he had been sneaky, creating the second vault. But Techno was not as good at keeping things from Phil as he thought he was, bless.

Phil took three wither skulls off the walls, considered a moment, then took three more. He put the six skulls into his inventory. The rest, he dumped into his ender chest.

No matter what happened in the morning, no one would ever be coming back here again.

A few last-minute instructions to Ranboo, who had also been working through the night on his own preparations, and Phil was finished.

The Angel of Death was ready to go to war.


	13. Technoblade

Forty-eight hours. Two days. That’s how long Phil said until ... _something_ happened. 48 hours.

And yet, when Sam came to give him his meal roughly 30 hours later, the creeper hybrid was on edge. He seemed almost nervous, as he handed Techno a bowl of stew.

Techno ... wasn’t sure what to do with this behavior. But he _was_ sure that he wanted the strength and energy for whatever Phil had planned, so he lifted the bowl to his lips ... and paused.

Gods knew he had ingested enough sleeping potions over the past month to know instantly what it smelled like. And there was definitely a sleeping pot in his stew.

He looked up at Sam, enraged, just in time to see the warden hide something that looked suspiciously like a splash pot bottle behind his back.

For several seconds they just stared at each other, one with fury and the other with caution.

“Fuck you,” Techno finally bit out. Sam flinched just slightly at the uncharacteristic expletive.

Techno tipped the bowl back and drank.

* * *

Something cold and liquid was in his mouth. He swallowed instinctively, and tried to spit the rest out.

“There you go,” a voice was muttering soothingly. “Bottoms up.”

Another mouthful of liquid was poured into his mouth and he swallowed again, head clearing just enough to recognize the taste of milk. “Go ‘way,” he growled, voice heavy with sleep.

The person forcing him to drink the milk chuckled. “That’s the idea, mate, but you’re coming with me.”

Techno recognized the voice, and the arms around him holding him up. “Phil?” he said. He opened his eyes.

And immediately regretted it. Bright light flooded the room, making him flinch back in pain.

Phil just chuckled again. “I know it hurts, and I know being awoken early from a sleeping pot fucking sucks, but we gotta go.” Even as Techno was trying to lay back down, hands were pushing him upright. “Here.” A hand covered his eyes.

Techno opened them again, and had to admit that the hand helped. The light was still headache-inducing, but at least tolerable. “Go where?” he muttered, letting himself be guided into sitting on the side of the bench.

“See for yourself,” Phil said. He slowly removed his hand from Techno’s face.

Techno squinted as his eyes adjusted. The source of the bright light was immediately apparent. There was a hole a dozen blocks wide in the ceiling of his cell. “How ...?”

“The withers,” Phil explained. And, now that he thought about it, Techno could sense two withers close by. “As we hit water, we just blocked it off with dirt. Watch yourself.”

Phil summoned an axe from his inventory and raised it up. Techno flinched as Phil brought it down on the chain connecting him to the wall, again and again, until it snapped.

Suddenly his cloak was around his shoulders, and suddenly there were hands under his knees and on his back, and he was being lifted up. “Phil, I’m too heavy,” he reminded the avian.

But Phil didn’t seem to be having any problems. “You’re fine, mate,” he said, almost sadly. Techno would have tried to parse that one out, except then Phil leapt into the air, and Techno was too busy trying not to pass out.

Phil landed on the roof and set Techno down onto his own hooves. Techno tried to stand, but he had lost a lot of muscle tone and the sleeping pot still had ahold of him. He clung to Phil and looked around.

Niki. Fundy. Vikkstar. HBomb. Jack Manifold. Karl. All stood around the hole. Eret and Lazar were just finishing off the last wither, then joined them. They all stared at him with a mixture of horror and sympathy.

It was ... overwhelming. All those eyes on him after so long alone and in the dark. He could practically feel them looking at his collar and at his half-naked body. A part of him just wanted to jump into the hole and go back to his cell.

But that was churlish and rude. And these people had helped Phil get him out. “Thank- thank you,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Thank you all.”

“You look like hell, mate,” Vikkstar told him, and Techno had to chuckle at that.

Then his eyes cleared enough to see to the front of the prison’s entrance, and he gasped.

Thousands of people swarmed around the small building on the mainland housing the entrance portal. It was a riot. He could see the guards fighting them off, could see people disappearing in death on the guards’ blades, but there were too many of them. The guards were severely outnumbered, several thousand to one. Eventually one of the guards was killed, he couldn’t tell which, and the rioters cheered.

The rioters and guards both were under the effects of the respawn anchor. None of these deaths counted for anything except for lost items and resources. But still ... why were they here? Why were people rioting?

Phil chuckled. “You’ve become ... somewhat popular, in your absence,” he told Techno, which only made the piglin hybrid that much more confused.

Phil helped him hobble closer to the edge, where he could see the riot better. And where the rioters could see him better, as well, it turned out.

* * *

_< Ph1LzA> Technoblade has escaped!_

* * *

That had been in general chat. Techno turned to Phil, surprised. Then back to the scene in front of them, as the rioters started cheering.

Phil turned back to the small team on the roof, who were watching with something like amusement? “Thank you for your help,” he said. Then Techno was once again being picked up, and they were once again airborne.

It was too much. Too, too much. Between the starvation and the sleeping pot, his thoughts felt sluggish and his body felt leaden. “I’m not ... _hallucinatin’,_ right?” he asked Phil.

Of course, Phil laughed. “Go to sleep, mate,” he said gently. “I got you.”

And even though he had spent entirely too long these past few weeks asleep, he thought it an excellent suggestion. “Wake me when we get back to the cabin,” he said, speech already a bit slurred.

Phil chuckled again. “Oh, we’re not going back to the cabin,” he said, in a tone that almost seemed boastful.

Techno would figure that out. Later. “As long as you know where we’re goin’,” he yawned, making Phil laugh yet again.

The rhythm of Phil’s wings and the sound of his friend’s laughter lulled him to sleep.

* * *

It felt like only a short time later when Phil suddenly cried out. Techno awoke to his friend screaming and suddenly Phil was gone, and he opened his eyes to the ground coming at him fast, too fast.

Then there was a searing pain in his left leg and ribs.

Then blackness.

* * *

Everything hurt.

Consciousness was overrated. Techno wanted to pass out again, sleep off the pain, but couldn’t make himself slip away.

Hands was cradling his head and gently stroking his face. Phil must have found him. And as much as he resented the anchor to reality, the comfort was nice. Techno snorted in thanks and leaned into the hands.

“My, aren’t we affectionate?” a voice chuckled.

That wasn’t Phil’s voice.

Techno opened his eyes and found himself staring into Dream’s mask.


	14. Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains descriptions of violence and mentions of non-consensual sex in the past and the future. It’s also the second to the last chapter!

Death was too good for TommyInnit.

Dream had woken this morning to a long list of complaints sent by both George and Sapnap. Apparently the little British gremlin and his brunet sidekick were on a griefing spree. He went to his hidden stables and saddled Carl.

The horse was incredibly well-bred, he knew that the moment he had seen Technoblade riding him. And it wasn’t like the piglin was in a position to use him. Dream had stolen him from the northern cabin for his own use, after he put the piglin in Pandora’s Vault.

Which brought his train of thought to two troublesome British teens. The piglin was in the maximum security cell, but neither Tommy nor Tubbo really needed all that anyway. The general population cells would hold them just fine.

As he tracked them from disaster to disaster on horseback, he fantasized about how he’d do it. In separate cells, that much was a given. And, when he saw the rather phallic addition to the Community House, he decided that those cells would be on opposite sides and on separate floors.

His comm came to life. Now, of all times, Technoblade had apparently decided to attempt to escape again. He grit his teeth in annoyance. Let Sam and Punz handle it. If they needed help, Bad and Ant were a message away. He could just see a blond head by the community portal, and he wanted to catch the pair before they caused more chaos.

Tommy saw Dream bearing down on them and shrieked. He and Tubbo jumped through the portal, and Dream gritted his teeth again. Taking a horse through the Nether was tricky at best.

However, he had a hunch.

He rode down the blackstone hill the portal was built on and to Alyssa’s house. There he dismounted, crouched, and waited.

Sure enough, Tommy popped out of the portal five minutes later. He looked around for Dream, didn’t see him in his hiding spot, and must have messaged Tubbo because the boy came through the portal just a few seconds later. Together they hesitantly walked down the staircase.

Dream searched through his inventory of pots. A splash potion of harming might be a good fit. Get them weak enough that they’d be easy to manhandle. Just a little closer ...

* * *

_< Ph1LzA> Technoblade has escaped!_

* * *

What?!? That was impossible! The Vault was inescapable!

Tubbo cheered and Tommy made that horrible squawking noise the child called a laugh, then both ran off. Dream ignored them. They would be easy to track down later.

If — and that was a big _if_ — Technoblade had escaped, that needed to be his top priority.

He mounted Carl and rode for the prison as fast as the horse could take him.

* * *

He never got that far.

A man-sized shape flew away from the area of the Vault, holding something that could have been a body. There was only one person on the server with wings.

Dream turned Carl to follow.

Phil flew on. He seemed unaware that he was being followed. With a predatory smile hidden by the mask, Dream pulled the bow off his back. He would only get one shot at this.

The arrow struck Phil in the wing.

Phil plummeted to the ground, but dropped Techno. Dream hesitated only for a moment before riding towards where he saw the piglin land.

He found Techno sprawled out on the ground. Using the toe of his boot, he flipped the body onto its back. The piglin grunted. Alive, then, but unconscious; and even then, he was coming around. Dream knelt by the body, lifting the head into his lap. The hair was atrocious; Dream would have to talk to Sam about some sort of weekly bathing schedule. He scratched the scalp affectionately, then ran his fingers through the filthy hair.

Techno groaned. Dream smiled, caressing his check with his thumb. The piglin responded by grunting and then _cuddling_ _into the hand,_ of all things.

It was intoxicating, having someone so powerful nuzzling against him for comfort.

“My, aren’t we affectionate?” Dream said with a chuckle. And watched the piglin’s eyes fly open. He saw Dream, and for just a moment, there was true fear in his eyes. It was quickly replaced by anger, and the piglin struggled to sit up.

Technoblade had the most fascinating eyes. They were black, with white pupils. But when he became angry, they seemed to glow red.

He was still wearing nothing but his pants. The collar was around his neck, with a foot or so of chain still attached to it. Quick as a snake, Dream grabbed that chain and _yanked._

Techno came crashing back into his lap with a satisfying “oof” noise.

“Since I captured you, you have been a thorn in my side,” Dream admitted. He yanked down a little harder, and watched the piglin start to squirm in discomfort. “But, damn, you’ve been the best fuck I’ve ever had. I guess it’s true what they say about animal hybrids.”

Techno was starting to go a little pale. Fingers came up to pull frantically at the collar.

“When you die, I’d imagine you’ll respawn in your cell,” Dream continued. “You will have accomplished nothing but losing a life. We’re far beyond the effects of the respawn anchor here.” The piglin was starting to turn just a little blue. “But, fuck, when I think about the things I’m going to do to you in punishment ...” He laughed, letting his eyes roam over the piglin’s helpless body. “Oh, Technoblade, we’re going to have so much _fun_ together!”

Techno managed to get his hooves under him. Surprised, Dream felt his hold give. It was just a little, but it was enough for the piglin to breathe. He gasped in breath after breath.

He was favoring his left leg. Dream kicked the leg, and felt it give with an audible _snap._ Techno fell with a scream.

“Maybe I won’t kill you,” Dream said to the piglin now panting in pain. “Maybe I’ll give you one of these instead.” He pulled out a sleeping pot. “Adrenaline or none, you’re far too weak to fight its effects. Would you prefer to just go to sleep?” He yanked the chain down again, listening to the piglin choke. “Or would you prefer death?”

“I think he’d prefer neither,” a voice said. Dream looked up to find Phil striding across the clearing. The avian was wearing fully enchanted netherite armor, and held a gleaming netherite blade. His wings were flared out and almost vibrating in a full threat display, although the right wing didn’t seem to move as easily as the left and was bleeding.

Dream dropped the piglin with a _thud_ and stood up. The dumb animal looked up at him with murder in his red eyes; but what could he do? He was unarmed, unarmored, and injured. Just for fun, Dream reached down and slapped him across the face, hard. “Behave,” he warned, waving a finger in his face. Then turned his full attention to the actual threat.

At the sound of the slap, Phil advanced. Dream pulled out his own blade and parried. He knew that there was absolutely no way this old hippie would be a match for him. Sure, the old man was good; but Dream was in a class all on his own.

Dream tried to shift to the left, take advantage of the avian’s injury; but Phil became a demon, striking and driving him back into place. So he tried circling to the right; but had the same results.

Fine. “You think you’re skilled enough to kill me?” he taunted his opponent. Then reached out to strike.

Phil parried with a grunt. “Not my kill to make,” he answered, and actually laughed.

Dream snorted, unimpressed. “Then whose is it?” he asked. “His?” And glanced back at the prone piglin.

To find that the piglin was no longer there.

Just a trickle of worry began making its way up his spine. He swung around, trying to look for where his prey had crawled off to and keep Phil in sight at the same time.

Technoblade was standing — _standing_ — behind him.

A wave of fury washed over his body. He opened his mouth to ask the dumb animal what it thought it was doing.

His head was clasped firmly by a pair of hands, one on either side.

Then he-

* * *

_Dream was slain by Technoblade_

* * *

He awoke in his house. How.. how had that happened? What had he done?

“Fuck!” he yelled, and slammed his fist into the bed beneath him.

It wasn’t over. This wasn’t over yet. He knew where they lived, after all. He’d just saddle Carl, and- no. Carl was in the clearing where he had ... died.

And he had died. He felt it now. He had lost a life. A precious life, irreplaceable, gone forever.

It didn’t matter. He gritted his teeth and passed the stables. Nether travel was faster anyway.

He went through his portal and all but ran across the path where he knew the snowy cabin was located. Techno was injured; it was going to take time for Phil to get him back. If he was fast enough, he might even beat them there.

He went through the portal and ran as fast as he could. The cabin was just over this hill ...

Except it wasn’t.

Where the cabin had once stood, there was nothing but a smoldering wreck.

No one was going to be coming back to this cabin, ever again.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BOY has done it again! Angel of Death fanart POG! Go see!
> 
> https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/759628360367603732/808541893133860894/AngelOfDeath.jpg


	15. Technoblade

* * *

_Dream was slain by Technoblade_

* * *

Techno watched Dream’s shocked face disappear in a puff of smoke.

He suddenly felt all the adrenaline leave his body, to be replaced with a bone-crushing weariness. His broken leg gave out, and he felt himself falling to the ground.

He never got there. Familiar hands caught him. “Techno? Stay with me, mate.” Phil helped him sit and then lay on the ground.

“Alright,” Phil said. “Here. It’s regen.” A potion bottle was put to his lips; he drank gladly.

There was a clear boot print on his left pant leg; Phil pulled the pant leg up and whistled. “You did this leg good, mate,” he said. “How were you standing? Gonna set it now. You know the drill. On three.”

The pain was sharp enough that Techno saw stars for a few seconds. “I guess this is when you screamed?” Phil asked, wrapping the leg against a splint. “Good thing you did; that’s how I found you.”

Phil’s hands continued to search for injuries. He found some busted ribs and various scrapes and bruises, but nothing as bad as the leg.

“Here ya go,” Phil said, and a healing pot was at his mouth.

Healing potions were marvels, but they had their limitations. It was best if bones were set beforehand, else there was a risk that they might heal wrong. Also the healing pot sped up the healing process drastically, but didn’t work instantly. A wound like the arrow that grazed Phil’s wing, cutting into flesh and tearing some muscle, was almost completely healed in minutes; a wound like Techno’s broken leg, which Dream had turned into a severe break that pierced the skin, would still take days or weeks.

Phil helped him sit up, then wrapped his cloak around his shoulders. “Gonna have to pick you up again,” he said. “Dream left in such a hurry he forgot his horse. Lucky us.”

And suddenly Techno was off the ground, and he must have passed out because Phil was looking at him with a worried expression on his face. “I’m fine,” he growled out. “Let’s just get out of here before the green Teletubby comes back.”

Phil chucked, and walked towards the horse. A very familiar horse, come to think of it. “That’s Carl!” Techno yelled, furious. “How did Dream get Carl?!”

Phil seemed just as shocked. “I thought you had hidden Carl away?” he said. “Even I don’t know where.”

“Apparently Dream did,” Techno grunted. He wondered how hard it would be to hunt the man down and take another one of his lives.

Phil laughed. “That bastard was entirely too sneaky for my tastes,” he said. Carl stepped forward to nuzzle Techno, and Techno pet the horse’s nose affectionately. Carl stayed completely still while Phil sat Techno onto the horse and then mounted behind him.

Techno felt himself drifting off before they even left the clearing.

* * *

“We’re almost there,” Phil’s voice awoke him.

Techno woke to find himself riding through a snow storm. They were back in the snowy north, but he didn’t recognize any landmarks. “Where are we?” he asked Phil.

“New place,” Phil explained. “Somewhere that Dream can’t find us.”

Techno consulted his comm and was shocked. They were over 100 km from spawn. “How long was I out?” he asked Phil.

”Dunno,” Phil said. “A few hours. But you need your sleep.”

He looked at the snow falling past his head. “We’re back in the snow?” He didn’t think that Phil liked chilly climates. He knew it did wonky things to his piglin physiology.

“Look behind you,” Phil said. Techno did, to see their tracks rapidly filling with snow. “I also took a bit of a meandering route back. Nobody’s tracking us here.”

Techno grunted in agreement. He would never underestimate Dream again.

* * *

It had gotten dark when a light could be seen through the storm. It could have been a lava pool, but the closer they got it became more and more obvious that it wasn’t a single light but several lights grouped close together. “Here we are,” Phil said. “Home sweet home.”

Techno looked over Carl’s head to study the building. It actually reminded him of his old cottage, but much larger. It was also built by someone who obviously knew what they were doing; the craftsmanship of both the building and landscaping shown through, even in the dark and snow. A light shine out of every window; dark smoke curled from the chimney.

“Cozy,” Techno said. “When did you build it?” Because it had Phil all over it.

“When I learned that you were missing, and Dream was responsible,” Phil replied. “I knew we’d need a place like this.”

What could Technoblade say to that? Bless Phil and his foresight. “Gonna start callin’ you Cassandra,” he muttered; and even though the reference made very little sense, Phil still laughed.

There was someone on the porch. They were holding a torch, waving it around. Techno was about to ask who it was when the torch illuminated half-and-half black and white hair. “Ranboo?” he asked Phil.

“Dream would have targeted him after we disappeared,” Phil responded. “No matter what, he would never believe that Ranboo didn’t have at least some idea where we went. Besides, the kid was useful. He moved all the stuff from the old cabin in only two days.” A pause. “Including your pet mobs.”

“Even Moon?” Techno asked, surprised.

“Even Moon,” Phil confirmed. “We ended up sticking a bag over his head so he couldn’t see us. Even then, Ranboo insisted on doing it without armor, worried that Moon would kill itself on his Thorns.”

Ranboo had seen them by that time and came running down the porch stairs. “I thought you’d be coming by air?” the teen said.

“Change of plans,” Phil said as he dismounted. Techno almost gasped as the cold air hit his warm back. “Help me get him down? His left leg is busted up good.”

Phil pulled him off on his right side while Ranboo made sure his left leg cleared the horse’s back without jarring it. Once again, Carl stood steady for the operation.

“You have hooves,” Ranboo said. “I never noticed before.”

Techno decided he’d respond to that later, when the world stopped spinning so much.

“Stay with us, Techno,” Phil commanded sharply. “I gotta check your leg, then you can sleep as long as you want.”

He was deposited onto a couch of some sort. His pant leg was pulled up and the bandages unwrapped. Ranboo gasped in shock, and Techno looked up to realize his cloak had fallen open and the damn collar was still on. “Souvenir,” he said, playing with the chain.

“No, that’s not it,” Ranboo said. “You’re just ... uh, _smaller_ than I remembered.”

Techno frowned. “Smaller?” he drawled. “On a scale of one to ten, how insulted should I be?”

Phil playfully slapped his arm. “Be nice,” he said. “You lost a lot of weight in that fucking prison, mate. You look like a stray in that cloak of yours!”

Techno snorted, unimpressed. Dream didn’t want to fuck a skeleton.

He realized he had muttered that last part out loud when both Phil and Ranboo froze in shock.

Ranboo recovered first. “I’m going to go take care of Carl,” he said, and was gone before anyone could say anything one way or another.

Phil said nothing. He just rewrapped Techno’s leg, then reached down and hugged him.

The gesture took Techno completely by surprise. He threw his hands up to defend himself, then loosened when he realized what was happening. “What’s this for?” he asked, patting Phil’s back awkwardly.

“I just thought you might need it, mate,” Phil said. Then helped him to his bedroom.

* * *

He had needed that hug, truth be told. He needed it even more that night, when Dream invaded his nightmares.

Twice he woke himself yelling. Once he woke himself by falling out of bed and onto the floor.

Every time, Phil came running in. Every time, Phil had his sword at the ready, just in case. And every time, Phil held him while he trembled and then helped him settle back down to sleep again.

After the third nightmare, Phil just scooted him over and got into bed with him. “So I’ll be here when it happens again,” he told the surprised piglin. It didn’t escape Techno’s notice, however, that he had also put himself between his friend and the door.

Techno slept soundly after that.

* * *

If Techno thought his days of having his meals carefully monitored had ended, he quickly found out that he was wrong.

“Made some stew,” Phil said his first morning in the new cabin, helping him sit up in bed before depositing the steaming bowl into his hands. “Here ya go, mate.” And just sat there.

The stew smelled good, but it was too hot to eat yet. Techno put the bowl aside, then realized that Phil was still sitting there watching. “Ummm ... what are you doing?” he asked the older man.

“Making sure you eat,” Phil said without a hint of remorse or sheepishness.

“Heh?” Techno said, surprised.

“I’m not dumb, mate,” Phil said. “You’re not good at taking care of yourself in the best of times. And this is not the best of times. So until I can’t count your ribs anymore, I’m taking care of you for you.”

Techno didn’t quite know what to do with that. “It’s too hot to eat yet,” he explained.

“That’s okay,” Phil said. “You wanna get that collar off while we wait?”

Techno did, in fact, want to get the collar off. He wanted that very much.

It took several minutes and an Allen wrench from an old tool kit, but the horrible thing was finally off his neck. He rubbed the area that had just been exposed, reveling in the way the air felt against his bare skin. His mind went to the other things he wanted to do now he was out of prison: get into his own clothes, wash his hair, trim his hooves...

Beside him, Phil cleared his throat.

Right. The stew. He picked up the bowl and began to eat obediently. He’d worry about grooming later.

* * *

It took a week with twice-daily healing pots for his leg to heal enough to stand on.

Phil didn’t give him any instructions; he didn’t need to. This wasn’t the first time Techno had broken a leg. He knew himself when it was time to walk again. He also knew how to go about relearning how to move — to take it easy at first, to keep close to items he could grab for stability if needed, to be careful not to favor his left leg.

It took another two days for him to be completely mobile.

The cabin had been excellently made. There was a common area, with some living furniture (including the couch he had been laid on his first night here) and a huge fireplace. Techno secretly thought of it as Em’s room, as the hound hadn’t moved from her pillow by the fire the entire time he had been here. The common area also had some brewing stands and food prep areas.

Off of the common area were three wings. Each wing had a bedroom, bathing room, and basement storage room.

Outside, Phil had rebuilt his bee farm, as well as a subterranean turtle farm with a furnace to keep the reptiles warm.

He had also staked out an area for Techno to build a potato farm, if he wanted. Techno laughed, and started building another secret vault instead.

Off to the side, there was a stable. Techno was uneasy about keeping Carl there; but Ranboo had pointed out that if Dream found out where they were located, the horse’s fate was probably the least of their concerns.

* * *

Ranboo turned out to be a valuable addition to their group. The more time went by, the more Techno understood Phil’s insistence on bringing the kid. He was resourceful, hard working, and humble.

In the old place, he had insisted on giving Techno gifts, as a sort of rent payment. Here, he didn’t need to do that; but he seemed to genuinely enjoy bringing Techno things to cheer him up. First a fistful of flowers, a couple days after his arrival, which graced Techno’s bedside table while he healed. Then a snowy rabbit, which hopped around the bedroom frantically and had to be taken outside; it ended up becoming another one of Ranboo’s pets.

Several days later, he brought him a map to a Woodland Mansion.

The map was placed in a drawer, out of sight but definitely not out of mind. Techno thought often about using it, finding the Mansion and plundering its riches. Killing any illagers that happened to inhabit it, knowing that they would be terrorizing the local villages and their deaths would be an act of mercy.

The first time he thought about it — saddling Carl and riding hundreds of blocks away from his home to face injury and potential death — he broke into a cold sweat and almost destroyed the map. But good sense prevailed and he simply left it alone.

The more he thought about it, in the days he was healing, the more he felt himself coming around to the idea.

He wasn’t ready. His time in prison had broken something within him that was still healing. Dream had taken a lot from him, and it was going to take time to get it back.

In the meantime, there was armor and weapons and tools to replace.

Three weeks after Phil brought him home, he decided that it was time to start rebuilding his personal armory, maybe start filling in his vault with something more than just wither skulls. They had built a Nether portal and Techno had stuck his head through a couple of times, but nothing serious. He wanted to change that.

He stuffed his pockets with a couple stacks of gold ingots for trade, put on the ill-fitting armor that had automatically gone into his inventory when he killed Dream, then hesitated.

He found Ranboo reading in his room. “Hey kid,” he said. “Wanna go mining for netherite?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was an amazing ride, and I want to thank everyone who came along with me. I had a blast writing each chapter, and everyone’s kudos and comments kept me going. You guys are awesome. <3
> 
> I might do a sequel of sorts one day, maybe Dream finding them somehow, or maybe a one-shot where Phil and Techno don’t escape in the clearing. Tell me what you guys would be interested in. It won’t be any time soon, though. This takes a lot of work! XD
> 
> But one day I’m sure I’ll write again. And I’ll see you guys then!


End file.
